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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27685334">The Straight Way Was Lost</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowlynx40/pseuds/Snowlynx40'>Snowlynx40</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rebehold the Stars [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lucifer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angry Dan Espinoza, Angst and Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Dan Espinoza Redemption, Deckerstar - Freeform, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt Lucifer, Hurt Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Hurt/Comfort, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Needs A Hug, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Whump, Lucifer Redemption, Lucifer's Fall (Lucifer TV), Lucifer's Family Sucks (Okay most of it), Post-Season/Series 03 AU, Temporary Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:40:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>208,676</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27685334</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowlynx40/pseuds/Snowlynx40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer and Chloe have made it past his poisoning and her shooting. They're starting to learn to trust each other again when Michael shows up, intent on wrecking Lucifer's chances of having his banishment from the Silver City lifted. Will Lucifer's psychotic archangel twin succeed in ruining everything? This story will make much more sense if you start with Rebehold the Stars. I have no beta, all mistakes are mine. Please let me know if you spot any, so I can fix or defend as necessary! Suggestions for tags are appreciated, because I'm terrible.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Decker &amp; Dan Espinoza, Chloe Decker &amp; Dan Espinoza &amp; Trixie Espinoza, Chloe Decker &amp; Dan Espinoza &amp; Trixie Espinoza &amp; Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker &amp; Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Dan Espinoza &amp; Lucifer Morningstar, Dan Espinoza &amp; Trixie Espinoza, Trixie Espinoza &amp; Lucifer Morningstar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rebehold the Stars [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024534</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>798</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. You Can't Begin To Help Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Trixie approaches the heavy door, glancing anxiously back over her shoulder at her mother, who gives her an encouraging smile. The guard at the door gives her a bored look and opens it, ushering her inside where her dad is waiting, with another guard stationed in the corner of the room. She looks around the empty room, taking in the heavy vinyl couch, the rounded plastic chairs around the card table, the small shelf with the worn boxes of board games haphazardly stacked on it.</p><p>Dan stops pacing when his daughter enters the room, and they gaze at each other in awkward silence. He’s been in this psychiatric hospital for three weeks, with no visitors but his lawyer and the doctors. And the guards, of course, always the guards. He’s even been kept away from the other patients.</p><p>“Hey, Monkey,” he greets her tentatively. “It is <em>so good</em> to see you! How have you been?”</p><p>“Hi, Dad,” her voice is small, reticent. Her mother’s advice rings through her head. <em>Try not to mention my injury or recovery. Try not to mention Lucifer. It’s okay to be scared, or mad, or sad. It’s okay to let him know you still love him.</em> “I missed you, too.”</p><p>“Do you… want to play a game while we talk?” Dan gestures hopefully at the games on the shelf, and Trixie nods slowly. She goes to the shelf and pulls out Connect4, which she knows her dad enjoys.  As they assemble the game and sort the colors, Dan throws out some questions. “How are things going?  How’s school?  And your mom?”</p><p>
  <em>Try not to mention my injury or recovery. Try not to mention Lucifer.</em>
</p><p>“Things are pretty good,” she replies quietly, concentrating on separating the red pieces from the black, keeping the red ones for herself. “School is school. I got an A on my history test.” <em>Because Lucifer helped me study,</em> she carefully doesn’t add.</p><p>“That’s great, Monkey!” Dan cheers, doing a pretty good job at faking excitement at Trixie’s nondescript answer. “And things at home are okay?”  That’s what he’s most keen to know about, how Chloe’s doing. Neither the lawyer nor the doctors have been willing to tell him about Chloe’s injury, or how she’s recovering, only that she’s alive. He remembers staring at the enormous puddle of blood on the wall and floor of the penthouse after Satan had flown away with his ex-wife. Remembers the glowing red eyes and gleaming white wings, the crimson stain of blood spreading down the front of the expensive three-piece suit as Lucifer took a bare moment to remind him to <em>behave</em> until police arrived to arrest him before hurrying away to get treatment for the bleeding woman draped lifelessly in his arms. The eyes, the wings, and the blood all feature prominently in his dreams every night, and often in his thoughts while he’s awake. He veers his mind’s eye away from that image and back to the game and his daughter in front of him. He twitches nervously, and notices Trixie watching him from beneath her lashes as she takes her time sorting the game pieces into two piles.</p><p>“Things at home are good.” She replies noncommittally, “I had to stay with Amenadiel and Dr. Linda for a little while, but everything’s pretty much normal now, except…”</p><p>“Except I’m in here.” Dan provides, letting his regret show in his voice.  He doesn’t regret trying to kill the devil. He doesn’t regret being willing to sacrifice himself to try to save the world.  But he <em>does</em> regret that his child has to pay some of that price, by losing her father.  “I don’t know what they told you, Monkey…”</p><p>“Do you want to tell me?” Her eyes meet his fully, and he can <em>see</em> the anger burning in them, and the sadness. “You always told me <em>violence isn’t the answer</em>, Dad, but… what you did was <em>wrong</em>.” Now it’s not just anger and sadness burning in her eyes, but tears.</p><p>They start the game, each slotting their tokens into place silently as Dan decides what to say. He’s sure Chloe would have told her the truth, or at least as much of the truth as she <em>could</em>. Does Trixie <em>know?</em> No. No way would Chloe tell her that, the kid would need therapy for… well, forever.</p><p>“What happened to your mom was an accident, Trix. I would never hurt your mom on purpose, or you. I hope you know that.” He pulls in a breath until she nods slowly, then he lets it out in a sigh of relief. “I was trying to keep you both safe… I was trying to keep <em>everyone</em> safe.”</p><p>“By hurting my<em> friend? </em>My family?” Trixie asks incredulously. Dan flinches as his daughter includes Satan as part of her family. “Dad… I still love you, but… I’m mad at you right now. I hope this place can help you so you can be my <em>Daddy</em> again. You <em>lied</em>, Dad, you said in the hospital that day that you were going get help, that you were going to <em>talk to someone</em>. And you didn’t do it.”</p><p>“I know, Trix,” he admits heavily, “things changed pretty quickly after that, and I learned a lot of new things, and… and I knew I needed to keep you <em>safe</em>.”</p><p>Trixie freezes as she’s about to drop one of her medallions into the frame, narrowing her eyes at him. “You needed to keep me safe?”</p><p>“Yes! Of course I want you to be safe, Monkey, I’m your dad, that’s my job.”</p><p>“I thought your job was being a Detective and finding out the <em>truth</em> about things. Not just believing the first story that comes along that you like?” Her eyes remain narrowed, and he shifts uncomfortably in his chair. She drops the red medallion into the frame and he considers his next move.</p><p>“That was my job, you’re right. But right now, the only thing that matters is being your dad.”</p><p>“No,” she disagrees candidly, “Right now, the only thing that matters is <em>you</em> getting <em>help</em>. You’re still my dad, but I don’t trust you to keep me safe until you get help. You’re not my <em>Daddy</em> until you do that.”</p><p>He drops his medallion into a random slot and meets his daughter’s eyes squarely. “When did you get so smart?” He asks wearily.</p><p>“I’ve always been smart,” she scoffs, “I get it from my parents. But they’ve both made some pretty big mistakes lately.”</p><p>“Oh, really.”</p><p>“Mmhm.” She drops her medallion into the frame and continues carefully. “My mom found out someone she loves had been telling her the truth when she thought they’d been lying, and kinda freaked out. Then she made a bad mistake. She tried to fix it, but that person got hurt really bad before she could fix it all the way. She’s still working on fixing it, and things are better now.  Then my dad did the same thing, to the same person. This time <em>other </em>people got hurt instead, but that still hurt that person because they’re family.”</p><p>“Are you talking about L-Lucifer?” Dan asks carefully.</p><p>“I’m not supposed to talk about him,” Trixie admits. “But since <em>you</em> brought him up…”</p><p>“Trix, there’s a lot you don’t know about him okay? I want you to be careful—”</p><p>“I think I might know more about him than you do, Dad.” Her eyes meet his again, and his heart freezes. “Because I listen, and I always believed him, because he <em>doesn’t lie</em>.”</p><p>He goes to drop his next medallion into the frame, and Trixie stops him. “Connect4, dad, I already won.”</p><p>“I guess you did.” He looks at the game, and sure enough, there are 4 red medallions in a neat little row, staring him in the face.  “Want to play again?”</p><p>“Nah,” she declines casually. “It was good to see you, dad, but I’m ready to go now. I’m still waiting on you to follow your promise and get that help. Okay?”</p><p>“I’ll try, Trix.” He stands and moves for a hug, and the guard tenses. <em>Right, no touching</em>. “Can I ask a favor?”</p><p>“Maybe,” she appraises him carefully. “What favor?”</p><p>“Stay away from him.”</p><p>“Not gonna happen, dad.” Her voice is cold, matter-of-fact. “He’s my friend. More than that, he’s <em>family</em>. And he’s protected me <em>and</em> mom from <em>your </em>mistakes. I think he’s even been trying to protect <em>you</em> from your mistakes. He keeps trying to convince me that <em>your </em>mistakes are <em>his </em>fault so I won’t be mad at you, even after everything you’ve tried to do to him. He’s good, dad. You’ll figure it out.”</p><p>“Be careful, Monkey—he can’t be trusted.” Dan blurts desperately.</p><p>“Right now you’re the one I’m not allowed to hug, dad.” The cynicism is thick for one so young, and it cuts him to the core. “I love you, though.”</p><p>“Love you too, Trixie. Be good for your mom.”</p><p>*</p><p>Trixie barrels down the echoing hall into her mother’s waiting arms, clutching her tightly.</p><p>“It’s all right, baby,” Chloe murmurs into her hair, “It was really brave of you to go see your dad, and I’m really proud of you. Did it go okay?”</p><p>“I <em>tried</em> to follow your advice!” Trixie bawls into her shoulder, and Chloe’s heart breaks for her brave child. “But he kept talking about how he wants me to be safe, and he wanted to know how you were doing, and he asked me to stay away from Lucifer!”</p><p>“Hey, hey—it’s okay, Monkey.” Chloe soothes her, “Whatever you said, it’s okay. And if you promised to stay away from Lucifer, then—”</p><p>“No <em>way</em>!” Trixie pulls back, offended. “Like I keep telling him, he’s <em>family</em>, and we’re all better <em>together.</em> I told dad that I love him, but I’m mad at him, and I want him to talk to someone and get help like he <em>promised</em> to do.”</p><p>Chloe huffs a laugh, but she’s not surprised at her daughter’s steadfastness. Trixie had believed Lucifer long before Chloe herself had, and had been his most loyal friend from the beginning.</p><p>“You didn’t stay very long—are you all right?”</p><p>“I’m still mad. I told him I love him, and we played Connect4. But I want to go home now.” Trixie pulls back out of her mother’s embrace and sniffles, drying her eyes with her sleeve. “I don’t like it here.”</p><p>“Home it is,” Chloe agrees sympathetically. “How about lasagna for dinner?”</p><p>“YEAH!” Trixie agrees enthusiastically. “Is Lucifer coming for dinner? He lets me help make stuff!”</p><p>“I know he does, and we can ask him. Do you want to text him, since I’m driving?” Lucifer had proven to be quite good at guiding Trixie through learning new things, especially in the kitchen.  For a child that previously lived on tater tots, cheese pizza, and chicken nuggets, she’s proven to be surprisingly open to trying new things when she’s allowed to help make them. Lucifer had somehow known that, and Chloe has greatly enjoyed the new variety in her menu over the past few weeks.</p><p><em>Has it really only been two months? Maybe a little more?</em> Chloe marvels to herself at how much has changed in that short time period. Learning that her partner had been telling the truth about his identity for the past few years. Losing her hold on her moral compass and essentially plotting to get him killed, only to come to her senses a bit too late… then spend the next few weeks fighting to <em>keep</em> him in her life. Finally admitting her love for him, and… perhaps most surprising of all, having him profess his love for her in return. She still has difficulty believing it—that this man, this <em>literal fallen angel</em> that hasn’t known love since the dawn of time—that he could not only forgive her for her actions, but could also continue to love and support her in every way imaginable. Everything would be just about perfect now, if only Dan… The psychiatric facility tells her that Dan hasn’t been participating in his sessions. That he either goes off in fits of rage, or shuts down entirely, refusing to talk. Chloe has had several conversations with Linda about the best way to approach the situation, but making the decision is proving difficult. Seeing Chloe could be triggering for Dan: either from the guilt of shooting her when he tried to kill Lucifer, or rage for her siding with the literal Devil over her ex-husband. So far, Chloe has opted for the ‘out-of-sight-out-of-mind’ approach, hoping that by maintaining her distance, Dan might be able regain his grip on sanity a little. Lucifer, of course, well aware of the effect seeing his Devil Face can have on humans, has kept a wide berth without being asked.</p><p>Chloe’s still on paid suspension from work while the Kinley and Rivas cases are wrapped up, and she’s eager to go back… but she’s also surprised that the enforced idleness hasn’t been nearly as onerous as she’d thought it would be.  Lucifer has been <em>fantastic</em> at helping her stay busy and distracted. <em>And surprisingly, it hasn’t </em>all<em> involved sex.</em>  Oh, sure there was a good amount of that… and it has been <em>incredible</em>, but he’s been determined to make sure that they spend at least as many days out and about as they do in the bedroom (or… wherever).  Lucifer has escorted her places she never would have been able to imagine him even knowing about over the past few weeks—from farmer’s markets to tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurants, beach-side boutiques to off-the-beaten-path activities. Each place they’ve gone, the people working the shops greeted him enthusiastically like their best, oldest friend.  They all knew just who she was upon introduction—“Is this your Detective??” was the common exclamation. When the proprietors refused to accept his money, he would leave obscene tips to make up the differences. After he’d already turned away and focused on whatever he’d purchased, Chloe had noticed the fierce expressions of affection on their faces. </p><p><em>Not all the people he helps only care about what he can do for them. Maybe these relationships started that way, but these people seemed to genuinely </em>like<em> him.</em></p><p>Trixie squeals in the passenger seat next to her, jolting her back to the present with a smile. “I take it that he’s coming for dinner?”</p><p>“Yeah!” she cheers, grinning toothily. “I knew he would.”</p><p>Chloe wrinkles her nose playfully and leans over to whisper to her daughter, “I knew he would, too.”</p><p>*</p><p>“So, Dan, you had a visitor yesterday.”  Dr. Selwyn leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers in front of him.</p><p>“Mmmhm,” Dan replies noncommittally, looking anywhere but at the older man.</p><p>“How did it feel to see your daughter again? To have her see you, in here?” The doctor’s steady gaze takes in Dan’s involuntary flinch, and the grimace that briefly flickers across his face.</p><p>“How do you think it felt?” Dan spits bitterly, clenching his fists against his thighs.</p><p>“Dan, we’ve discussed this, I can’t begin to help you until you actually start participating in our sessions.”</p><p>“I’ve got news for you, pal,” Dan laughs bitterly. “You can’t begin to help me, period.”</p><p>“We don’t know that, do we?” The doctor asks calmly, “Because you refuse to discuss anything.”</p><p>“I know you think I’m crazy, and you won’t believe a word I say.” Dan hisses malevolently. <em>If this guy can’t help </em>me<em>, how on Earth has Lucifer managed to keep the same therapist since he’s been working with us? If he doesn’t tell her anything, or if she thinks it’s all crazy, how could she even keep working with him?</em> His eyes widen in sudden realization. <em>She knows. Linda knows, she </em>has to know<em>. If she can treat the devil, she can treat me!</em> “Look, man, nothing against you, but I want a different doctor.”</p><p>Dr. Selwyn appraises him calmly. “You told us you weren’t currently working with a therapist.”</p><p>“And that’s true,” Dan admits readily, “but I was about to make an appointment with Dr. Linda Martin. I think <em>she</em> can help me.”</p><p>“Dr. Linda Martin,” Dr. Selwyn repeats quietly. “I know her by reputation. I can reach out to her to see if she has time in her schedule to come speak with you, but I can’t guarantee she will see you as a patient.”</p><p>“I think she will. She’s… friends with my ex-wife.”</p><p>“The same ex-wife that you shot?”</p><p><em>”That was an accident!”</em> Dan snarls, and the doctor lifts an eyebrow at him.</p><p>“Nevertheless, it raises an ethical dilemma for her, to offer counseling to the man who nearly killed her friend.”</p><p>“Fine,” Dan sighs. “If she can’t see me professionally, is it possible to see if she can come <em>visit</em> me?  To talk?”</p><p>“Perhaps,” the doctor leans forward again in his seat. “But the request is more likely to be accepted if I can give them some indication that you’re cooperating in your sessions.”</p><p>“Alright.” Dan licks his lips nervously. “You want to know how it felt to have my daughter come see me in here? Do you have kids?”</p><p>“No,” the doctor smiles wryly at him, “my husband and I were unable to conceive.”</p><p>Dan huffs an unexpected laugh. “Okay, that’s fair enough. My kid is 10, and she’s got the personality of a 25-year-old. We played Connect4 while the guard watched us from the corner, and she <em>lectured </em>me. Getting a lecture from your kid about things <em>you’ve</em> lectured <em>them</em> on is… humbling. She’s mad at me, and all I want to do is keep her safe.”</p><p>“What did she lecture you about?”</p><p>“She told me that… violence isn’t the answer,” he grumbles quietly, ducking his head. “And that, as a detective, I should have put more research in before jumping to… to doing what I did.  Tried to do. And she wants to me talk to someone about… why I did what I did.”</p><p>“It sounds like you’ve done a good job raising her.”</p><p>“She’s a damn good kid,” Dan takes the compliment. “But she doesn’t know what she’s talking about in this situation.”</p><p>“And what situation is that?” The psychiatrist probes gently.</p><p>“The situation that landed me in here!” Dan bursts out angrily, “The <em>situation</em> where the Devil is evil but no one believes it because no one <em>believes</em> he’s really the Devil!!”</p><p>“The Devil in question being your ex-wife’s partner, the one you tried to shoot?”</p><p>“How many people named Lucifer do <em>you</em> know who actively walk around <em>telling </em>people that they’re the Devil?” Dan brushes a hand over his ragged hair in exasperation. He knows how useless it is—he’d spoken to Lucifer damn near <em>every day</em> for 3 years before he’d really believed the truth, and even then it was only because he <em>saw</em> it.</p><p><em>The burning eyes. The charred skin. Then those wings</em>. All three, swirling constantly in his mind since burning themselves into his unconscious brain. His dreams are filled with glowing eyes, snapping feathers, and the brittle, indignant voice he’d heard from that hidden room: <em>“How could you just murder them?  They trusted you! They shared their darkest truths and you just betray them?”</em></p><p>He keeps dancing the line between being hunted by the demonic eyes and face of the Devil himself, and being haunted by the luminescent wings protecting Ella from his recklessness, and the small, pained voice from the large man sitting next to him saying quietly, <em>“The last person I opened up to, I hurt. A lot… It’s all I seem to be able to do.”</em></p><p>“Dan?” Dr. Selwyn’s voice breaks through his thoughts and brings him back to his session in progress. “Did you hear anything I just said?”</p><p>“I… I didn’t,” He swallows, his throat suddenly dry. “Sorry, I… got lost in my thoughts for a minute there.”</p><p>“Would you like to talk about where they took you?”</p><p>“No.” <em>Not with you</em>. “Sorry, what were you saying?”</p><p>“I was asking what information your daughter is lacking that makes her advice to you less than relevant?”</p><p>“She doesn’t understand that Lucifer is dangerous, and that she shouldn’t be anywhere near him. She <em>likes</em> him, considers him family, even.” Dan scoffs at the idea, appalled that Chloe could let this happen.</p><p>“So, this man that protected your daughter from being shot, and got your ex-wife to the hospital in time to save her from bleeding out from an arterial hemorrhage is the dangerous one?”</p><p><em>“Yes!” </em>Dan snaps frustratedly, ”He’s <em>evil incarnate!”</em></p><p>The older man hums quietly. “It sounds as though ‘evil incarnate’ has a bit of an altruistic streak, then.”</p><p>“That’s what he wants you to think,” Dan mumbles, resigned.  “He’s systematically destroying my life.”</p><p>“Oh?” The doctor’s interest is peaked. “Can you give me some examples?”</p><p>But Dan just shakes his head, mentally exhausted. The only examples he has are ridiculous and petty:  pranks, stolen pudding… and things that he knows Lucifer truly can’t be blamed for:  the loss of his career, his divorce, the death of girlfriend, the loss of respect of his daughter.</p><p>“Well, perhaps we’ll leave it there for today, then. Thank you for opening up a little, Dan, perhaps we’ll be able to see if Dr. Martin is willing to come and speak with you.”</p><p>*</p><p> “I know you’ve mentioned several times during our sessions that you’re concerned about Dan, and how he’s handling—or not handling—his introduction to who you really are.” The tiny doctor settles in her chair across from the couch where Lucifer is perched, legs comfortably crossed at the knee.</p><p>“Yes, of course, Doctor,” he laces his fingers together on top of his knee, wondering where this is going. “The Urchin and the Detective are both upset, and I… don’t like being the cause of it all.”</p><p>“It’s not <em>you</em> that’s the problem, Lucifer, it’s <em>Dan’s</em> reaction to learning the truth that’s the issue. Please don’t forget that.” Her tone is earnest, serious blue eyes never leaving his. “His actions are his own, and there is <em>nothing</em> you could have done to change them. We’ve had this conversation before.”</p><p>“We have indeed, Doctor, and I find that I still feel… responsible.” He doesn’t <em>like</em> responsibility, no. He much prefers it when other people are the responsible ones, and he can be the carefree, impulsive one.</p><p>“Self-blame isn’t going to help you with Dan’s situation, and it won’t help you be there for Chloe or Trixie, Lucifer,” Linda’s implacable logic had washed against him with the gentle insistence of the tide for weeks, helping to wear down the ridges of his self-imposed guilt. It’s still there, but it’s getting a little easier to see the sense of what she’s saying.</p><p>“But if I hadn’t—”</p><p>“You told me that you didn’t even realize you had your devil face during that altercation.” She interrupts ruthlessly.</p><p>“I <em>didn’t!</em> I—”</p><p>“Lucifer… at some point you have to accept that sometimes things happen that you <em>can’t control</em>. And we just have to deal with them as best we can.”</p><p>“I don’t have to like it, Doctor.” His gaze doesn’t lift from the glass of water he now spins idly in his hand. “I… I <em>should</em> have been able to control it. Every time I fail to control it, something horrible happens.”</p><p>“You’re right, you don’t have to like it, Lucifer, but you’ll have to choose to move past it. Control is never absolute.” Her smile is gentle, but her voice is firm. “I actually have a question for you. Dan’s psychiatrist has reached out to me, apparently Dan has asked for me to be his therapist.”</p><p>“Well if anyone can help him, I think it would be you, Doctor!” Lucifer crows excitedly. “If it’s a matter of cost, of course I’m more than happy to—"</p><p>“The <em>problem</em> is, it’s a bit of a conflict of interest, since he’s Chloe’s ex-husband. <em>She’s</em> my friend and patient, and we’ll likely be discussing you, <em>also</em> my friend and patient. I’d like to avoid another review with the ethics board, if at all possible.” Linda’s face scrunches up in pain at the memory. “I still don’t know what Maze did to make the last inquiry stop, and frankly, I’m afraid to ask.”</p><p>“Ah. Yes, well, probably an instance of ‘better to err on the side of caution’, then,” he agrees readily, eager to not bring up how badly he’d managed to tangle that particular investigation. <em>Who knew human ethics said it was bad to sleep with your therapist in payment for services rendered?</em> “It’s a shame you won’t be able to help Daniel, though. I think you would do marvelous work for him.”</p><p>“I thought I might agree to consult with his own doctor. They’ve told me I can come visit him just to chat in an unofficial capacity, so maybe I can help him that way.” She lifts her eyebrows at him, as though asking permission.</p><p>“I’m not certain why you’re telling me this, Doctor. If you can help him, and if you have the inclination, I hope you know that I will support your helping Daniel get back to his normal douchey self in any way that I can. If you think that sharing anything you’ve learned about me during our sessions might help him, you’ve my permission to do so.”</p><p>“Lucifer, I would never ask that of you,” The doctor seems scandalized, though he can’t understand why. “What we discuss during our sessions is private, and I would never disclose your private business to—”</p><p>“I know, Doctor, I do know!  You’ve been absolutely wonderful about privacy, both before and after you started seeing Chloe as a patient.” He reassures her quickly. “But… if you think it will help Daniel, I’m willing to allow you to offer whatever insights you have. Just… maybe don’t tell him about demon blades or celestial weapons being able to still kill me?” And he realizes that perhaps it’s a little too soon for that joke, as Linda goes pale. He apologizes hurriedly and has to change the subject twice before she’s able to move forward with the session.</p><p>“Have you heard anything more from any of your siblings about your Silver City banishment?”</p><p>“As the only sibling that talks to me with any regularity currently lives with you, Doctor, I’d wager you’d likely know before I would. Azrael is so busy she rarely has time to stop in—I haven’t even seen her since I recovered, though I know she came to visit while I was in hospital—and she’s the only other sibling aside from Arael that I’ve had anything to do with lately.  He never leaves his gardens, and Raphael certainly isn’t going to visit the Adversary for Sunday tea.” Linda’s lips get thinner as he discusses his siblings, and he stops talking, wondering what he’s said to upset her. “Honestly, Doctor, it’s fine. I’ve really no desire to see the inside of the Silver City’s gates any time soon… it’s dreadfully boring there and my home is <em>here.</em>”</p><p>“Yes, but… how do you feel about the possibility of being allowed back?”</p><p>“I… don’t know, Doctor.” He blurts without thinking. “I haven’t really thought about it, because, frankly, I have a hard time believing it will ever actually happen.”</p><p>Several hours later Lucifer sways gently on his piano bench, lost in the gentle melody pouring from his nimble fingers.  For the past few weeks he’s been eagerly spending all his free time with Chloe and Trixie at their apartment.  Today, he had specifically made plans to spend time at Lux alone, to give the Detective and her offspring some time to themselves. <em>Don’t want to wear out the Devil’s welcome,</em> he thinks wryly to himself. And he <em>has</em> missed his piano. He’s been playing for hours without a break, except to pour the occasional drink.  His mind wanders as his fingers find the keys without any conscious guidance. He finds himself considering his session with Dr. Linda, and the uncomfortable questions she’d posed.</p><p>He sends a quick prayer to his favorite little sister, asking her to give him a heads-up if their father approaches her about him. After a brief hesitation, he sends a tentative one to Arael as well.</p><p>The music comes to a jarring end a few minutes later, when a sound of feathers rustling on the balcony draws his eyes to a furling pair of russet wings with cream barring outside the glass doors. He stares for a moment in surprise, before rising to his feet to greet his unexpected guest.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Long, Long Time Ago</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You’re looking much better than when I saw you last, brother,” Arael’s bright aquamarine eyes crinkle at the corners, his freckled face breaking into a genuine smile as Lucifer opens the glass door and steps aside to allow him in. “I didn’t expect to hear from you, but I’m glad that you called for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t exactly <em>call</em> for you, Arael,” Lucifer points out wryly. “But that doesn’t mean you’re unwelcome. Would you like a drink?” Lucifer gestures expansively at his freshly replenished liquor wall, but Arael politely waves away the offer. “I was merely asking you to warn me if Father approaches you about… discussing my banishment from the Silver City. I’d rather not be taken unawares by any siblings that might be upset with the idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has Father lifted your exile, then?” Arael asks, his hopeful face falling at Lucifer’s headshake. “Then why—?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chloe spoke with Him again recently,” Lucifer pours himself three fingers of scotch and holds it up to the light, giving himself somewhere to look that isn’t at his brother. “And He apparently told her that my banishment was never meant to be permanent, but that it would be unwise of me to attempt to come back at the moment, until He’s had a chance to ‘break the news’ to the Host. Chloe told me that she suggested He speak to you and Azrael about the best way to attempt that, since you two seemed to be fairly open-minded regarding me. He apparently agreed to do so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glances up at Arael’s continued silence, and sees that his brother’s normally tanned face has gone pale, freckles standing out in stark contrast. “Are you all right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chloe spoke with Father?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmhm,” Lucifer confirms, his eyebrows lifting in a ‘can you believe <em>that?</em>’ gesture. “Twice. Once when my divinity, er, ‘adopted’ her, then again later when she got injured and was unconscious while it was healing her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arael sinks down into one of Lucifer’s chairs wordlessly as his brother looks on, concerned.  “Your miracle has spoken with Father twice in – how long has it been since I was last here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About a month?  Maybe a bit more, why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s spoken more with his miracle in a month than he has to his entire family since you were exiled, Lucifer.” Arael’s voice is quiet. “Is it always so… active down here on Earth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s rarely boring, particularly around the Detective,” Lucifer admits with a grin. “Since my treatment we’ve discovered that I’m no longer vulnerable around her, found that she can not only sprout spectral wings but actually hop to Hell with them, started a relationship together, and have had murder attempts on the both of us. Oh, and Father also apparently told her that I’m no longer needed in Hell, and that if she chooses to become immortal to stay here on Earth with me, she’ll be able to do that as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These are the additional gifts he gave his Miracle?” His eyes are wide, and his jaw hangs a little slack for a moment before he closes it with an audible <em>click.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Dad no.” Lucifer scoffs. “Her speedy healing and dimension-hopping capabilities stem from the divinity that invaded her after you lot forced it out of me to deal with that bloody poisoning. Dad apparently told her that she’d gain some self-actualization capabilities from it, since it’s decided to stay there. And damn me if she hasn’t managed to convince it to be <em>useful</em> to her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actualization?” Arael repeats dazedly, still apparently stuck on the whole ‘Dad-speaking-to-someone’ idea. “You mean Amenadiel’s theory is correct?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It seems so,” Lucifer shrugs. “I still have zero control over it, but all Chloe needed to do was to <em>ask</em> my former bloody divinity for help getting me back from Hell, and it not only sprouted her metaphysical wings, but also showed her <em>how to get there</em>. She’s lucky I managed to catch her before she burnt to a cinder in the magma sea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She went to Hell to get you?” Arael’s smile starts to return, along with a little of his color. “Lucifer, your Detective is <em>impressive</em>. I would not want to be on her bad side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can personally vouch that it’s a very dangerous place to be,” Lucifer agrees wryly, and Arael flushes as he recalls that his treatment was necessary partially because Lucifer had unknowingly <em>been</em> on Chloe’s bad side for a short time period before she came to her senses. “But you’re perfectly safe, brother. She <em>likes</em> you. Raphael, on the other hand…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah yes, he didn’t win himself any points in his favor while he was here, did he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe the Detective said something about her divinity helping her heal quickly after she breaks her hand on his jaw the next time she sees him…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, what I wouldn’t give to see his expression…” The brothers catch one another’s eyes and break into laughter simultaneously. Teasing Raphael had always been one of their favorite pastimes when they were younger, before…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it happens, I’ll try to catch it on video for you, brother.” He sucks in a deep breath, trying to rein his laughter back under control. “I’m sure I can convince the Detective to give me a few seconds warning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arael sighs contentedly as the last of his peals of laughter huff past his lips. “I have <em>missed</em> you, brother. There is far less laughter in the Silver City without you. It will be magnificent if you can return to us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that sounds as though it’s in your and Azrael’s hands, and perhaps Amenadiel’s unless you know of any other siblings that don’t hate me on principle. I won’t mind coming up to visit now and then, especially once my friends here start to pass the Gates.” His eyes darken at the thought of losing his friends to Heaven—his first <em>real</em> friends in his entire existence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come to visit? You don’t intend to return to us permanently?” Arael’s eyebrows lift, incredulous. “Truly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was <em>bored</em> in the Silver City, Arael,” Lucifer drawls lazily. “Earth <em>always</em> has something going on worth investigating. I’ve made a home here, and I love it. Plus, it doesn’t have all the… weight of <em>before</em> pressing down on it like the Silver City does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arael thinks for a moment, really stops and tries to <em>think</em> what Lucifer went through when he was cast out, and finds that he can’t even imagine it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brother…” He begins tentatively, “Will you tell me? What happened to you?” He sees the hesitation in Lucifer’s countenance and hurries to add, “Only what you are comfortable sharing! But… if Father is to ask me how best to approach our siblings about rescinding your exile, I would much prefer to go in well-armed, so to speak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you certain you wouldn’t like a drink?” Lucifer offers, resigned. “Because I’m afraid I’m going to need quite a lot for this. And when I get to some points of it, you may as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I’ll have a drink with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better pour one for me too, Lu,” Azrael steps in from the balcony, folding her smoky wings away. “If Dad’s going to be asking me for help, I should know what Arael knows.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you have time for this story, Rae?” He offers her a tumbler, and she accepts it cheerfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can make time for my favorite big brother,” she winks at him as Arael huffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so now I lose my ‘favorite big brother’ spot?” His eyes narrow in false affront. “Where is the loyalty, Azrael?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re my favorite big brother <em>in the Silver City</em>,” Azrael clarifies cheekily. “Lu is the favorite big brother everywhere else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who was your favorite big brother when <em>I</em> lived in the Silver City?” Lucifer prods impishly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ummm, I plead the fifth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooooh, all that hanging out with Miss Lopez is rubbing off, Rae,” Lucifer laughs, while Arael just looks confused. He explains, “Pleading the fifth means a suspect is taking advantage of a legal right to remain silent to avoid implicating oneself in a crime. Oh, bloody hell, is that Miss Lopez or the Detective rubbing off on <em>me?”</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In your case I’m gonna say it’s probably Chloe, Lu,” Azrael smiles tightly. “I know you love her… but I’m gonna reserve judgement on that one for now, she’s about breaking even on my scales at the moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azrael…” Lucifer growls warningly, and his little sister holds her hands up placatingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relax, Lu, she’s not going anywhere. Her divinity’s got her nice and safe. Now… weren’t you going to tell Arael and I a story? You're my favorite, but I’ve only got so much free time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well, where shall I begin this story, then?” He heaves a long-suffering sigh as the chime of the elevator announces its arrival.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When Mom tells me a story, she usually starts with ‘Once Upon a Time’,” Trixie comments as she bounces into the room, Chloe close behind. “What story are you telling? Sometimes they start with ‘A long, long time ago…’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucifer’s face lights up at the sight of two of his favorite humans, even as Trixie darts to trap him in her customary hug. Chloe stifles a grin as she patiently waits her turn to embrace her devilish boyfriend, and greets Arael and Azrael while Lucifer struggles to extract himself from her daughter’s joyful clutches. It never ceases to amuse her that this being that can so easily toss a grown man allows himself to be manhandled by her 65-pound daughter. Lucifer’s siblings seem even more entertained than Chloe herself, and the three simply snicker together as Lucifer slowly talks Trixie into releasing him with a sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloe approaches him then, and he more enthusiastically returns her embrace, whispering in her ear, “You know, you could have helped out there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shivers at the warmth of his breath in her ear, and whispers back, “You <em>like it.”</em> She grins at his huff of laughter in her hair, and brushes a kiss to his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t expecting to see my favorite ladies today, I had planned to give you some family time without interruption.” He says a bit louder, though of course his siblings wouldn’t have any trouble overhearing their whispered conversation. “But of course you are both <em>always</em> welcome… as long as you <em>don’t touch that, Urchin!</em>” Trixie giggles and pulls her hand back from the statue she was pretending to reach for to garner a reaction from him, and he mock scowls at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We had our girl time… and then we missed the <em>rest</em> of our family. Didn’t we Trix?” Chloe calls across the room, where Trixie is inspecting the Assyrian carvings in the walls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep,” Trixie calls over her shoulder, popping the “p” sound cheerfully. “So we decided to surprise you! Now, what story were you going to tell?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Er…” Lucifer glances from his siblings to Trixie to Chloe, and comes to a decision. “Urchin, come over here, would you? Detective, you already know my brother and sister.” He places a hand fondly on Trixie’s head, ruffling her hair and making her laugh again. “This is Beatrice, the Detective’s minx of an offspring.  Beatrice, this is my brother Arael, and my sister, Azrael.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trixie’s eyes widen. “Why are your names so much alike?  Are you guys twins?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucifer’s very dissimilar siblings glance at each other—one tall, tanned and freckled with a wild mane of riotous red curls and wide turquoise eyes and the other delicate with dark hooded eyes and smooth dark hair capping her rounded face and both their smiles turn up in nearly-identical smiles despite their disparateness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not twins,” Arael begins,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Lucifer has one!” Azrael laughs.  Trixie’s eyes get even wider as Lucifer groans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, you two, that’s quite enough of <em>that</em> subject, we’ll be discussing that wanker enough today during this bloody storytime.” Lucifer scoffs. “Beatrice, to answer your question, many angelic names do sound similar because most have the same ending:  -iel, or -el means ‘of God’, so angelic names often say something about their purpose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The child’s gaze moves back to his siblings, and he explains further. “Arael means ‘Lion of God,’” Trixie giggles when Araeal waggles his eyebrows and tosses his hair, “And Azrael means ‘Help from God’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your name doesn’t sound like theirs, though…” Trixie muses, and Chloe tries to interrupt her before she can ask but Trixie moves too fast. “It’s because you don’t want to be an angel anymore isn’t it?  Because your dad was mean to you?” Lucifer looks at the girl in disbelief as she reaches out and grabs his hand. Stunned at her quick grasp of his lack of an angelic name, he just nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re… exactly right, Beatrice. I didn’t like the purpose my Father gave me, and chose this name instead when I was cast out of the Silver City.” She squeezes his fingers in comfort, and the corner of his mouth quirks in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does ‘Lucifer’ mean?” she asks innocently, and for a moment, he cannot speak. His throat is choked with too many emotions that he’s still not comfortable trying to express, and Chloe’s heart breaks for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His name means ‘Lightbringer’ sweetie,” Chloe supplies, and he glances at her gratefully as she comes up and wraps an arm around his waist. “Isn’t that neat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it is! It really suits you, Lucifer, I’m glad you picked it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucifer glances at his siblings, watching this exchange in interested silence, and clears his throat. “Well, I suppose we’ll get started with the, er, the story then. Azrael is very busy, so we’ll need to be succinct about it, all right Urchin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl nods, and tugs him over to the couch, sitting close beside him. Azrael and Arael claim the chairs across the table, and Chloe settles on Lucifer’s opposite side, whispering to him, “Are you sure you’re okay with us being here for this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In response, he takes her hand in his and squeezes gently, giving her a smile before turning most of his attention on his siblings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right then—where did you want me to begin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we’re going to be getting the word out to the Host, we’ll need to know what really happened from the start, Lu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right…” he suppresses a wince, and Chloe presses closer to his side in support. “From just before my Fall, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trixie shifts and looks up at him eagerly, and he sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well, Urchin. ‘A long, long time ago…’”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. All Part of the Design</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is not exactly the story that Lucifer tells his audience. Of course, he tells the truth, but he has to abridge it a bit due to Azrael's time constraints, and make it a bit more child-friendly for Trixie's presence.  I thought that we deserved the FULL story, so... here it be.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Samael had many titles: The Will, Lightbringer, The Arbiter—to name a few. His work in creating the stars to fill the skies was well-known, and well-envied by all, especially Michael—though technically he had helped. His stubbornness was legendary among his siblings, and his father smiled indulgently whenever one of them would complain about it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“All part of the design,” God would chuckle, “One cannot merely contain a spark of My Will, once used, it must continue to be used.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Samael loved his father—more than anything in his simple life. He would do anything asked of him, anything at all… except leave him behind.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But Father,” he had argued passionately, “if I go to Hell, who will arbitrate the disputes between my siblings here?  Who will be by your side to see that Your Will is done? Time is even different on that plane, I—I could not bear to be away from you for so very long. Please do not ask me to go.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“All right, my son,” God had agreed sadly, “You may stay by my side for a while longer.” Samael had smiled in relief, his dark eyes shining like the stars he’d placed in the heavens to please the being before him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Time had marched on. His duties creating the stars had been completed, and now his days were filled with his own whims and wants, except for when he was assigned projects by his father, or was arbitrating a dispute between siblings. His sense of justice was infallible, and uncontested. His determined punishments and restitutions were never too harsh, he never took sides, and they always fit the situation at hand. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was only a matter of time before he stumbled across humanity. He had been in the Garden with Arael, trying out different fruits from one of the trees when they happened upon the pair, naked and contentedly lounging in a patch of warm grass. Arael backed away, brushing his fingers against Samael’s elbow in a request for him to do the same. Once they’d reached a safe distance, Samael had turned to his brother with curiosity burning in his eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What are they, brother?  They look like us, but they’re certainly not angels!”</em>
</p><p><em>“No, they’re a new type of creature Father has created.  He calls them humans.” Arael glances back in the direction of the reclining pair, as though they’re a nesting pair of creatures he doesn’t want to disturb.</em> <em>"The poor things don't even have any wings!"</em></p><p>
  <em>“What is their Purpose?” Samael had always had a fierce interest in Purposes, as he still wasn’t happy about the part of his that his Father insisted that he would have to go to Hell to complete.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s just it… they don’t have one. Each one of them gets to decide for themselves what they will do with their existence.” Arael’s eyes reflect doubt, as though he pities this poor experiment, doomed to fail, but Samael’s light with glee.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But that’s fantastic!” He crows, catching the attention of the pair in the near distance. Arael unfurls his wings and takes to the air, but his brother does not follow, instead going to greet them. The three become fast friends, but Lilith is unhappy with the role that Adam expects her to take. She listens to Samael’s stories about his sisters—equals in all things—and sees no reason why she should submit to Adam’s will if she has her own perfectly functional one. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Adam complains to God, who, in an attempt to preserve peace in his Garden, casts Lilith out to wander alone and creates a new human from Adam’s flesh, in hopes that this one will be more appealing for him. Samael travels with Lilith for a time, and she bitterly offers him a deal—in return for an unnamed favor in the future, she will provide him with an army for when he has to go tend to Hell. He dislikes the sound of this, but agrees to the deal since Hell is yet unknown to him, and having an army there to keep the place in running order after he finishes whatever he needs to do there seems like a reasonable plan. They part ways, and Lilith makes her immortal way among the rest of humanity. Samael returns to his friend Adam, and Adam’s new wife Eve. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Eve is a candle where Lilith was a roaring conflagration. She’s meek to Lilith’s blatant courage, and eager to please. Adam is pleased with her, but misses Lilith’s fiery spirit. Eve senses his distraction and turns to Samael for consolation. He provides some guidance on becoming her own person, not merely the shadow she’s attempting to be, and their relationship progresses. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>One day unbeknownst to Samael, his twin Michael visits the garden, eager to see what draws his unpredictable twin here so very often. Michael’s duties don’t allow him as much free time as Samael, so when he finds himself at loose ends, he heads for the garden without telling anyone of his plans. He finds Eve bathing alone in the pond, and she greets him enthusiastically, thinking him to be Samael. He smirks to himself, an idea for causing his brother trouble forming in his mind. He decides to join her in swimming, removing his angelic vestments to enter the water. </em>
</p><p><em>Eve had never seen Samael nude before, and she finds herself curious—he looks similar to Adam, but… different, too. She finds herself wondering if the act of coupling would be different with him… and sets out to find out. She successfully seduces the angel she </em>thinks<em> is Samael, and finds herself riding a thrill of fear of discovery at his whispered words in her ear, which only increases her enjoyment in the act. Later, when he leaves her sated but shamed, his mind is already coming up with new ways to manipulate his irresponsible twin. </em></p><p><em>When Samael returns to the garden next, he’s surprised to find Eve’s body covered in fig leaves, and even more so when Eve drags him eagerly to her trysting place. They lay together in the aftermath and she doesn’t understand why it feels so different this time—the fear is lessened but the pleasure so much greater.  Michael continues to visit the Garden when he knows Samael is otherwise engaged, and Eve entertains both of them unknowingly. Samael has </em>no<em> idea that his brother has not only been visiting with Eve, but also making certain that Adam not only finds out about it, but is plotting his revenge against Samael.</em></p><p>
  <em>Adam sees Michael entering the Garden one day and creeps to the Eastern gate, relieving the negligent Guardian there of his sword before making his way to where he knew they carried out their trysts. As the angel was coupling with his wife, he leaps from the surrounding greenery with a roar, bringing the sword down in a vicious stroke. Michael’s reactions are supernatural, and he has time to manifest his wings to block the worst of the blow—the sword cleaves his radius and ulna of his right wing and lodges in his right shoulder as he wheels to face the human.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Adam, realizing he’s now incurred an Archangel’s wrath, runs away as Eve works to remove the sword from the injury, fussing over ‘Samael’. He brushes her off brusquely, ashamed at being wounded by a mere human. His mind is already spinning a believable story for his Father. He leaves her weeping, and waits for Samael to arrive before going to his Father with his story.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Samael is confused at Eve’s tears, he’s never seen guilt before, or shame quite this strong. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Eve, darling, I’m perfectly fine,” he reassures her helplessly, “What are you on about?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Adam—your wing!” She stutters between sobs and he glances over his shoulder where she’d gestured, seeing nothing there, certainly not Adam.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I… don’t understand why you’re leaking.” The humans had confused him many times before, but this was unsettling on a new level. “Should I call my Father to help you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No!” Eve is panicked now, and Samael’s worry only grows. “Adam knows about us, Samael! He attacked you! Your wing was broken!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I assure you, he did no such thing,” the angel laughs and unfurls his wings. “They’re perfectly fine, you see?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Samael… your wings!” Her eyes widen in relief.  “They’re white!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Of course they are—I’m the Lightbringer,” he declares proudly. “What color did you think they were?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Every time I’ve seen them before, they’ve been black!” She exclaims in wonder, reaching up as though to touch. He pulls them back quickly, stepping away as he realizes what’s happened. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Eve, darling, I think we’ve been set up,” His expression is grimmer than she’s ever seen, and her heart sinks as he continues. “My twin brother Michael has black wings. If you’ve seen them… then you’ve been seeing him. And obviously he hasn’t made that known to you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>*</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Father, Samael has been coupling with the human female. Her mate found out about it and tried to attack him—I had to intervene to save him from harm and look what havoc the human managed to wreak on me!” Michael’s right wing is drooping, the heavy bones cleaved completely in two. His shoulder is still oozing blood, and he clutches the wound with white knuckles. “These new creatures of yours are dangerous, Father, you cannot permit them to stay here.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>God eyes his Sword warily. “I know what you are planning, Michael, and it will not succeed. You may think so… for a while, but you should give it up now before your path takes to a place you cannot return from.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know what you mean, Father,” Michael lies easily, “You can see what the human has done to me, and due to Samael’s actions.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You are correct in this, I cannot allow them to dwell here any longer, now that Adam has committed an act of violence against one of my children. Why has your wound not yet healed, My son?” God, of course, knows the answer, but wants to see what Michael’s theory is.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It was a Celestial sword that wounded me, Father, it will not heal properly.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Mm.” God grunts noncommittally. He knows there is a seed of shame down deep where his son will not allow it to be acknowledged, for what he has put in motion for his twin. “Well, if you would like to fly again, I’d suggest making a visit to Raphael while I handle this mess.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Michael slinks away to the Healer, smug in the knowledge that Samael will not escape punishment for his deeds, and the humans will be banished from the Garden, depriving Samael of his pets. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>*</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Samael watches sadly from the gate as the banished pair travel into the world where the rest of humanity awaits them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Was it really necessary to banish them, Father?” He casts a glance sideways at the figure standing watch beside him. “Michael baited Adam into that attack, Eve…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know what your brother has done, Samael. And I know that you played a part in Eve’s betrayal of Adam’s trust as well.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She only wanted—” His eyes light with a fire that might still be contained for a time… but will never truly be quenched, and God feels a twinge of sadness that this is where Samael’s difficult path truly begins.</em>
</p><p><em>“I know what she wanted, what she </em>still<em> wants, Samael.” God interrupts gently, trying to bank the fire, to delay the inevitable explosion for a later time. “But the fact remains that Adam’s wrath resulted in a serious injury to your brother, and he could not be allowed to stay.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“But to expel Eve as well!” Samael’s voice burns with the injustice of an innocent being punished for another’s actions. “She deserved the choice to stay or go.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She is his wife, and will go where he goes—such is their lot in life, My son.” God’s voice rings with finality and Samael sighs in defeat, eyes still fixed on the retreating pair. “They will live a good, long life together, but many hardships lay in their path and they would not find them if they remained here.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But wouldn’t it be better to avoid the hardships as much as possible?” Samael’s voice is puzzled, unable to see how hardships shape life by making one strong enough to bear them.</em>
</p><p><em>“Sometimes the path to avoid certain hardships only results in even more difficulties,” God suggests gently. </em>What these two face is nothing compared to what you will have to face, My son, and I though I wish it could be otherwise… it simply <em>must</em> be so. <em>“I hope you will understand, one day.”</em></p><p>
  <em>*</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Eve’s lack of choice and the injustice of her punishment festers in Samael’s heart for ages. Finally, he gathers the courage to confront his father about free will for his siblings. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His impassioned speech kindles a fierce pride in God, who hides it well. This too, is a necessary part of his plan. “I am sorry, My son, but I cannot do as you ask. I cannot give you and your siblings the free will you so desire.”</em>
</p><p><em>The reason He cannot give it to them, of course, is because they already </em>have <em>it, they only need to make the decision to </em>use<em> it. As Samael has, and his twin (in a darker manner) – though neither of them realize it. </em></p><p>
  <em>“Father, we deserve to choose our own paths!” Samael’s innate light flares in his indignation, and though He’s proud of His son’s defiance, His heart is heavy as he considers the path ahead. “You cannot truly intend to bestow such a gift upon humanity and withhold it from us, your children!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What is done, is done Samael, and I can do no more than I have already,” God allows his tone to become cold, though his eyes burn with unshed tears at the pain that will result from his next words. “I will hear no more on this matter, Samael, I cannot give you what you ask.” He turns away from His son, dismissing him without words. A hushed murmur ripples through the gathered Host, never have they seen their Father turn from one of his children with so little consideration.</em>
</p><p><em>“Father!” Comes the strangled cry from behind Him, and a tear falls, unseen. “I </em>will not<em> be denied this! We’re not done!”</em></p><p>
  <em>And so the rebellion began. It began in tiny ways. God withdrawing from his children to avoid accidentally giving commands that would be followed without thought. Samael attempts to gain audience with his father time and time again, only to be turned away with increasing frustration. A brother here, a sister there— stopping to commiserate with Samael about his lack of success on the free will front. Other siblings flocking to Michael when it seems that Samael is gathering an army to storm their father’s workshop.  Michael grins to himself in his quarters… everything is coming along perfectly, the old man doesn’t know what he’s talking about.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Finally, Samael and his followers gather together at the door to God’s workshop, ready to make another attempt at an audience, but this time Michael is there, his still not-completely-healed wing and shoulder on display, surrounded by his chosen army. </em>
</p><p><em>“Give up, Samael,” Michael sneers smugly. “You will never gain audience with father again.  You have proven yourself… </em>unworthy.”</p><p>
  <em>“Michael,” Samael’s lip twitches in a near-snarl before he controls the expression. He hasn’t spoken to his twin since their brief confrontation after Adam’s attack on Michael, resulting in broken noses for both and a ringing headache for Samael for days afterward. “Step aside, you have nothing to do with this request.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Request!” Michael crows to his supporters. “Siblings, does a ‘request’ typically need so many bodies to be heard? I think our Venom here has other ideas.” A wave of apprehension sweeps across the surrounding angels, fanned by Michael’s gift of fear and doubt.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A smaller wave ripples through Samael’s group, but he settles them with his confidence. “Steady on, everyone. You know Michael’s gift for sowing discord. Weapons away, we want no bloodshed, only freedom of choice.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Oh, no bloodshed, you say brother?” Michael’s voice cracks like a whip, and Samael’s eyes lock with his. He gestures grandly at his drooping wing, his injured shoulder. “What do you call this then, hey? It’s </em>your<em> fault I was injured by father’s pets before he threw them out. Perhaps you should have thought of that before you went and coupled with them!” A surge of distaste pulses through Michael’s supporters, and hands draw weapons. Samael pulls back, but his followers step forward, eager now to defend their leader in the face of Michael’s inflaming words.</em></p><p><em>“Perhaps you should have thought of the consequences before you </em>started<em> this little plot, Michael,” Samael hisses, “Don’t think I haven’t realized that you had been coupling with Eve before I ever thought of her that way. She told me about your black wings… she hadn’t ever seen mine, so she didn’t realize that you aren’t me until I showed her mine. Why </em>were<em> you so intent on pretending to be me, brother?” He lifts a brow in supercilious challenge, “Were you </em>afraid<em> the human wouldn’t waste her time with you otherwise?”</em></p><p><em>Michael stares at him for a moment, rage warring with disbelief that his inconsequential brother would dare to indicate that </em>he<em>, the Sword of God was the one not worth dallying with!  Rage wins after a brief struggle, and Michael breaks ranks, rushing his brother with an enraged roar and sword drawn. This breaks the tenuous stalemate between the opposing groups and they crash together, weapons drawn into a deadly scrimmage, breaking only around Samael and Michael like the sea around a cliff. A wide berth separates the battling twins from their followers, if one could call it a battle. Samael is unarmed, and Michael is injured, but not holding back with his weapon. Samael’s grace is such that he appears to be dancing as he avoids the worst of the blows. Michael’s right arm is still largely immobile, so he has that working for him, but his sword gives him a vast advantage in reach and the sheer danger of his strikes. Samael manages to land a few blows to Michael’s face and injured shoulder when he overextends on a swing here and there, but carefully pulls any potential strikes he could make to his wing. Wing damage is off limits in all but the worst combat, and Samael would never break such a taboo. Finally, Samael is distracted when Zerachiel cries out in pain. Michael takes advantage of the momentary lapse of concentration, snapping his left wing forward to swipe Samael’s feet from under him, stepping forward and pressing the tip of his blade ruthlessly into the hollow under his chin, a feral rictus of a smile distorting his features as he feels the celestial metal bite deep, his brother’s blood flowing freely. Samael stares up him, barely even able to recognize the contorted face above him.</em></p><p>What have I done to deserve such hatred? How could it have come to this?<em> He thinks to himself, as his blood soaks into the neck of his vestments. He closes his eyes, waits for his brother to thrust the blade in and end it all.</em></p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>“Enough.”</em>
  </strong>
  <em> Comes the echoing bellow of their father. <strong>“Children. You know I hate it when you fight.”</strong></em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Just Me and Dante</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is not a happy chapter, my friends. Lucifer's story of his fall continues, and there are what I would consider some pretty graphic descriptions here of what was done to him before and after his fall, as well as descriptions of the burns he experienced during and immediately after his fall. I'm not sure if it's angst or not, but it was... painful to see, and even more painful to sit and try to find words to match what the story was showing me. Not gonna lie, I cried a few times while I was writing this. So... if you're squeamish, beware here, mmkay?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I remember that," Azrael breaks in quietly, as Lucifer pauses in the telling, his fingers running gingerly over the scar under his chin. "I wasn't even <em>there</em>, and I remember how angry Dad was. I could <em>feel it</em>." She shudders, wrapping her arms around herself as Arael nods solemnly. </p><p>"I was in the Gardens, and I could feel it as well as hear it, even from that distance. I haven't felt anything like it, before or since... it was like being squeezed." Arael lifts a clenched fist in front of him, accentuating his point. </p><p>"Mmhm," Lucifer nods absently, still stroking the scar with his thumb. "That's what Hell feels like."</p><p>"What, all the time?" Arael's voice is horrified, and Azrael nods in agreement.</p><p>"You know, I never really thought about it, but you're right. I'm never there long, but it does feel similar. Huh," she looks off into the distance, face faintly troubled.</p><p>"Is that why I had so much trouble breathing there, Lucifer?" Chloe glances up at him, squeezing his hand at the flash of despair in his eyes as he remembers diving to catch her, fearing he might miss...</p><p>"It's possible, Detective, but the atmosphere there is much thicker as well. It's fine for demons and celestials, but a live human... well, I'm afraid the sample size is fairly small."</p><p>"Just me and Dante, hm?" she jokes and his mouth quirks.</p><p>"Just you, I'm afraid. Dante never had the pleasure of his personal tour, just a gloriously macabre imagination. I'm sure he's enjoying his loop, though," Lucifer muses absently.</p><p>"Lucifer, you <em>lived</em> there... how did you even—?" Arael is still gazing at Lucifer in repelled fascination.</p><p>"One can get used to any number of things, if one has enough time and distractions." Lucifer prevaricates. "We're nearly to that point in the story now, in fact. Are you all right on time, sister dear?"</p><p>"I'll deal with the backlog when we're done," she shrugs, and Chloe shakes her head in wonder. Just another day ferrying souls, no biggie.</p><p>Lucifer feels tiny fingers under his chin and looks down at Trixie. She's reached up to rest her fingers on his, over his scar. "Is that where your brother hurt you with his sword?"</p><p>"Yes, Urchin, it is. Only celestial weapons leave a scar on me." Chloe traces her hand over the fleshy pad at the base of his right thumb, feeling the slight jagged ridge of the scar there from the cut that introduced Kinley's poison to his system. <em>Celestial poisons, too, it seems</em> -- but she doesn't dare say it.</p><p>"Will you tell us the rest?" Trixie asks softly, leaning back into his side, and he glances at the faces of his audience before answering.</p><p>"Of course, Beatrice, but... it's not a happy story to hear." She wraps an arm around his waist and squeezes him tight, and he glances embarrassed up at his siblings, who are watching with affectionate expressions.</p><p>"That's okay, Lucifer," Trixie chirps. "I know it has a happy ending, because you're <em>here</em> now, with us."</p><p>He's not sure he can respond to that with the warmth blooming in his chest, so he hastily clears his throat and continues his tale.</p><p>*</p><p>
  <em>God emerges from his workshop in a suffocating swell of calm fury, and the entire scene freezes like a tableau. A moment later Goddess is standing beside Him, anxiously whispering in His ear. He brushes her away like a fly, and she stands next to him, impassive. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Why do I find My children brawling at the door of My workshop? Don't you all have Purposes to be attending to?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Samael is unable to speak, with Michael's sword still cutting into the softness of his throat. It's penetrated deeply enough that he can taste his blood on his tongue, and the pressure hasn't let up with God's appearance. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Samael was attempting to lead a rebellion to your door, Father," Michael speaks up stridently, his sword pressing just a tiny bit deeper, daring Samael to say differently. "We were defending you against his insurgency."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"A rebellion, is it?" God glances unconcernedly at Samael, pinned to the ground like an insect with his brother's sword, blood flowing freely from the wound. "Well, then. Back to your Purposes, all of you. Michael, see to it that your brother Samael begins his duties in Hell immediately."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Yes, Father," Michael barely restrains his glee at Samael's strangled attempt to gain his father's attention for just a moment.  He leans over his brother malevolently, putting a bit more weight onto the sword as their father walks away, never glancing back as he enters his workshop. Their mother stands, watching silently and their surrounding siblings make more space around them, ominously quiet.</em>
</p><p><em>"Let's go, Samael. Get those wings out, </em>Lightbringer<em>," Michael taunts cruelly. "We'll just get you settled in Hell right now."</em></p><p>
  <em>"Let me up," Samael croaks, blood filling his mouth now, dribbling from his lips and down the side of his face to cool in his hair.</em>
</p><p><em>"Oh, you don't need to </em>stand<em> to bring your wings out, not the mighty Lightbringer." Michael does retract the sword point just enough that Samael can lift his shoulders from the ground far enough to unfurl his perfect, gleaming wings and the very sight of them sends a malicious twist into Michael's gut as though Samael has buried his razor-sharp primaries into his abdomen. He sneers at his brother, still pinned beneath him. "You know... maybe you don't need to fly to Hell after all. It's only a dimension-crossing... and then a looooong way down.  You don't need wings to move downward."  </em></p><p><em>His booted foot stomps on Samael's left wing, shattering the joint between the humerus, radius, and ulna-- the 'elbow' of the wing, then again at the 'wrist' joint where the radius and ulna meet the metacarpal. The dry cracking of the feathers and dull crunching of the bones make a brittle counterpoint to the agonized screams that rip from his throat at the unimaginable pain. There is a reason wings are a taboo target in battle-- the pain is not merely physical, it is </em>spiritual<em>... with these wounds, Samael's </em>soul<em> begins to bleed. He casts his eyes in the direction where his mother stands emotionless and inscrutable as she watches the scene play out. Samael attempts to defend himself with his remaining wing, but another sibling-- he can't focus enough to see who it was-- rushes forward and stomps his own foot down, cracking the humerus itself between the shoulder and elbow, rendering the wing largely immobile. Another sibling darts in and does the same for the radius and ulna, and suddenly all he can hear is Michael's malignant chuckle as he's being kicked and trampled by his surrounding siblings. </em></p><p>
  <em>Just as Samael thankfully begins to lose his grasp on consciousness, Michael calls the rest to order. "Now, brothers... we want our little shining star to enjoy his trip to Hell, don't we?" A quiet ripple of assent spreads through the gathered Host as they clear the way. Michael leans down and lifts Samael by the bloodied neck of his vestments, hauling him mostly upright with ease. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Now, brother mine," Michael pulls him close and hisses in his ear, "You will stay in Hell, because if you attempt to come back, I will make this little show look like a romp in the Garden." With that, he tucks his own wings close to his body and takes them both across the dimensional border, flinging his twin into a freefall before opening his own crippled wings to glide carefully, the better to watch the path of the flightless angel falling below him, shrieking in agony as the passing winds catch his shattered wings and billow them uselessly, like a shredded parachute, sending him spinning in tossing midair. Michael sighs in satisfaction as he sees the glow of the fire starting to engulf his twin from the sheer velocity of his entry into Hell's atmosphere, and blinks back to the Heavenly plane, where he is surrounded by the congratulations of his siblings for putting down the dangerous rebellion. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>*</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Samael falls for what feels like an eternity. He should know, he's already lived through one or two of those, perhaps more— who can keep track? After he loses the breath to shriek, the only sounds that buffet him are the occasional snap of his wings as the wind catches and forces them to move a new way and the wind itself rushing past him. The heat builds, and builds, then builds some more. He can handle heat, he made the stars, for Dad's sake... but then his vestments catch fire. The air around him catches fire, then the air in his lungs and as he continues to fall the rest of him begins to crackle and blacken and curl as the flames feel as though they take root in his very being. These are no Heavenly flames—no celestial stars—this is Hellfire, and it consumes his angelic body as though it has been ravenously waiting for him for eons. His cracked and broken feathers burst into incandescent flames so hot that they are consumed nearly immediately, leaving only blistered skin behind to rapidly char and split to reveal blackened, broken bones underneath. He feels a burst of heat and stench as his hair erupts into a brief burst of flame, then feels the smoldering sensation of creeping flames engulfing the rest of his skin. He has no air to scream, his lungs and airways all crisped past any hope of use, and all that exits his lungs are desperate exhalations, followed by agonal gasps as his body contorts in an attempt to force more air into it to start the horrific process over again.</em>
</p><p><em>As he falls, it gets darker. He can barely tell, especially as the flames roll over his eyes and his lids are charred shut over boiling orbs, but he can </em>feel<em> it, this absence of light. He feels it in his bleeding, broken soul as it tries in vain to replenish itself. How he can register anything beyond the burning, he doesn't know, except to wonder grimly to himself if, perhaps, there is </em>always<em> room for more abject misery. Somehow, the heat continues to intensify, and he blissfully loses consciousness before he lands in Hell.</em></p><p>
  <em>When he regains consciousness he feels as though he’s splintered into a billion pieces from the impact, each piece a tiny shard of pain as he slowly knits back together, burning all the while.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>How can there be anything of me left to burn? He wonders in his rare lucid moments. Unless I’m regenerating, just to catch fire all over again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Which is exactly what it feels like. He’s been afire long enough now that he can feel differences in the heat surrounding him.  There’s the immediate, excruciating, hot coals heat of his body charring and healing and blistering and charring again as he burns and heals and burns.  Then there’s the more distant burning of his wings- bone, sinew, skin, and newly emerging feathers all going up like so many candle wicks, burning as quickly as they can grow. Then, even further away is the burning of his surroundings—Have I set the entire plane on fire? He wonders muzzily (Yes, the answer is yes). </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ultimately, even eternally regenerating flesh can only burn so long before the flames grow sated. He lays in his crater as the rock smolders around him, what remains of his flesh slowly and tortuously knits itself back into a semi-functioning vessel. As his crater slowly cools, the sharp pain of burning is gradually replaced by the slightly softer agony of healing. His charred skin sloughs away and is replaced by the reddened, more lightly charred layers underneath in crags and melted slabs of tissue. His attempts at breathing morph from dry and rattling to wet and heaving as he coughs up lumps of coal that probably used to be bits of his lungs and airway. After several hundred years (maybe more… time runs differently here, after all), his eyes finally heal and he manages to peel his lids open, taking in his new surroundings visually for the very first time. He’s surrounded by black glass, deep cracks radiating from his point of impact. He already knows the edges are sharper than razors, as he’s cut himself on them in the throes of agony more times than he can count. The atmosphere is heavy, as though it neither wants to be breathed in nor expelled once it’s been inhaled. He can’t tell if the pressure he feels is merely from his healing skin feeling too tight, or if the atmospheric pressure is heavier here than in the Silver City. When he gains the ability to flex his neck, he looks upward. Nothing. Just a roiling greyness, tinged with sourceless blue light. No sky. No stars. No true light. He feels his soul continuing to hemorrhage from his ravaged wings, even as it uselessly struggles to find the sustenance to replenish itself. Eventually, he scrapes together the strength to lift himself to his elbows, and he catches a glimpse of his new self in the slagged glass surrounding him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I am a monster. It’s the only thought he can register. His expressive dark orbs, sparkling with the mischief of a thousand harmless pranks are no more, these eyes glow like roiling magma flow from the depths of his ruined face. The face itself looks as though it had been sculpted by a blind, drunken artist. His features droop like melted wax and the crags and ridges of skin are uneven and raw-looking, even in the dim blue light of his new home. His ears have been crisped and curled down to nubs that barely surround the aural opening. Is this what I have always been, underneath? He muses detachedly, Is this what father knew about me, what inspired him to name me Samael, His poison?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It must be, he decides in the end. No one could love… this. Hell is truly where he belongs. He’s not strong enough to stand yet, so he pulls himself to the edge of his crater, crawling what feels like miles out of his way to avoid some of the still-fiery spots, burning with bright blue flames. He struggles up the smooth walls dragging his useless wings, slicing his hands and fingers as he grasps the crevices and pulls himself up and over the rim, only to find himself surrounded by a fresh horror: a horde of demons.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>*</em>
</p><p>He notices belatedly that his shoulder is wet, and he glances down in consternation, shaking himself abruptly from his memory-driven trance. Chloe’s face is buried in his shirt, and her shoulders are shaking, he looks to his left and sees the Spawn’s face similarly buried in his chest, both clutching him tightly, though he hadn’t noticed when he’d been lost in the memory. </p><p><em>Did I tell them too much?</em> He’d been trying to tone it down for the Offspring, but perhaps he’d lost track of what was appropriate. He glances at his siblings seated across the way, both their faces are wet, and pale.</p><p>“I—” He begins, unsure exactly what he wants to say. “Er, my apologies, Detective, did I say too much? I was intending to make the narrative more child-friendly, but… I may have gone a bit too deeply into the memory?”</p><p>Chloe shakes her head against his shoulder and he casts his gaze helplessly to his siblings, who are looking at each other with nearly-identical nauseated expressions on their faces.</p><p>“Did I say something wrong?” He wonders plaintively, “I… you said you wanted the truth?”</p><p>Arael clears his throat, starts to speak, then clears it again. “No, Lucifer, you said nothing wrong. You…” he clears his throat again. “You are remarkable brother, do you know that? If what you just gave us was the child-friendly version of what you went through—and I thoroughly believe you!—Lucifer, I don’t think <em>I</em> could have survived the ordeal you just described, and I have not yet heard it in its entirety. You... during your treatment you were talking—screaming—begging not to be cast down to Hell again, that you were already going on your own. That you preferred death to being cast down to burn again. Brother… I believe you.”</p><p>“Oh, Archangels are difficult to kill, brother, you know that—even fallen ones—”</p><p>“Don’t,” comes a muffled, unrecognizable voice from his right shoulder. Chloe lifts her swollen, red eyes to meet his soft brown ones and continues. “Don’t downplay what you’ve been through, Lucifer—not after what you just told us. Not after everything you’ve been through. You’re… you’re <em>incredible.”</em></p><p>“Detective?” his concern shines in his voice, unable to understand exactly why she’s upset. “Those wounds have been healed for eons now, darling, you can see perfectly well that I’m all healed up, even my wings!”</p><p>“That’s what you show people, when your Devil face appears, isn’t it?” She asks quietly, “They see what <em>you</em> saw, in the glass at the bottom of your crater? What happened to you when you fell.”</p><p>“It is,” he confirms. “It never truly left me. It may have always been there—for all I know it was always underneath, just waiting for the Hellfires to free it. Maybe that’s why father chose <em>that</em> name for me.”</p><p>“No, Lucifer,” her hand reaches up to rest against his stubbled cheek. “You’re no one’s poison. You’re my morning star.”</p><p>“And that, my dear, shall never change. Yours I shall ever remain.” He presses a kiss to her forehead, then rests his forehead against hers for a moment before he’s drawn back to the present by the sniffling of the child attached to his waist. “Are you quite all right, Beatrice? You don’t have to remain for the rest of the story…”</p><p>“No, please don’t make me leave!” The girl lifts her swollen, pleading eyes to his. “I’m only… I’m only sad at what happened to you, I’m not scared or anything! I’m not a <em>baby, </em>and I want to know!”</p><p>He glances at Chloe, who meets her daughter’s gaze for a moment before nodding her permission. He throws another glance at his siblings, who seem to have recovered somewhat.</p><p>“Are <em>you</em> lot alright? Azrael?” His sister had been strangely quiet during the exchanges with the others.</p><p>“I…” she hesitates before going on, speaking quickly as she always does when she’s nervous. “I was in and out of Hell during that time, delivering souls, you know…” she glances quickly at his puzzled expression and continues, “I… could hear you screaming, but I was never able to make out words—I thought you were just angry, and that’s why you were never there when I was making my drops. I thought… I thought you were mad at <em>me</em> too, and you didn’t want to see me, so I never went looking for you. I… I should have looked for you, Lu! Why didn’t I look for you??” Her deep-set eyes are wet, her face shining with tears and if he hadn’t been effectively pinned down by the Decker family, he would have gathered her in into a (probably very awkward) embrace. Arael reads the dilemma on his face and does the legwork for him, sweeping their little sister into an enveloping hug. His brother’s blue-green eyes meet his own deep brown ones and a look of understanding passes between them.</p><p>“You were so young then, Rae,” Arael soothes her, while Lucifer nods in agreement, “You’d only just barely started your duties, and you’re always so busy. Between being wary of father’s anger, insecure in your Purpose, and thinking that your <em>favorite big brother</em> may also have been angry with you… it’s a wonder you were able to get anything done at all.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t have wanted you wandering Hell any more than you had to, Rae—” Lucifer adds in gently. “There was nothing you could have done for me, short of fret… and we all know how much I <em>enjoy</em> that…” he adds wryly, earning him a wet chuckle from all the women in the room, and a snort of amusement from his brother. “I can’t blame you for not looking for me, Rae-Rae. Hell does things, even to angels. It gets in your head and brings all those terrible, ugly, self-destructive thoughts to the foreground. The only ones who seem immune are the demons… and honestly that’s likely because they mostly run on those thoughts anyway.”</p><p>Azrael sniffles and pulls from Arael’s embrace, patting his arm gratefully as they find their seats again. “Yes, demons. We left the story when you’d just pulled yourself out of your crater and into a horde of them?”</p><p>“Yes, of course.” He takes a pull from his tumbler of scotch, and readies himself to delve back into those unpleasant memories.</p><p>*</p><p>
  <em>“What have we here?” Growls the nearest demon, poking him cautiously as he lay gasping on the rim of the crater. “A pretty bird that got trapped in the wrong plane?” Raucous laughter surrounds him and all he can do is groan, too weak to mount any kind of defense. He feels grimy fingers pulling at his freshly-grown quills, still encased in their keratin shells and groans feebly again, attempting to furl his wings away—out of reach of these prying creatures. “What happened to your feathers, pretty bird? Hellfire not agree with them?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He doesn’t even attempt a response, this group of miscreants would only use a response to instigate another round of torture. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Might not want to mess with that until you know what it is, Gerrin,” comes a small voice. Soft-spoken, but cocky. It’s a young voice, like… like an overconfident fledgling with a half-dozen flights under his belt but no true flight training yet. “You don’t even know where it’s been.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sure I do, Mazi,” the voice that presumes belongs to Gerrin responds, “It’s been on fire in that crater for the past couple centuries, since it landed.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Doesn’t it tell you something that it lit Hell on fire and has been burning for centuries, yet is sitting here alive?” the other voice—Mazi?—responds snarkily. “It means that once it gets its strength back, it’s probably going to kill you for trying to give it trouble.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Then I’ll just have to kill </em>it<em> first. It can’t be too hard, look at it, it’s half-dead already.” Another poke, less cautious this time, and Samael takes stock of his existing strength. He realizes he has two primaries on his left wing that have managed to lose their keratin shells, and he thinks he has enough range of motion with that wing to be able to… yes.</em></p><p><em>“Not your best idea, Gerri,” the first voice shoots back, stepping closer to him, fortunately on the side </em>away<em> from the not-quite-functional wing. “Remember what mother said about angels? Best to leave them be.”</em></p><p><em>“Oh yes, </em>mother<em>,” Gerrin spits. “Lilith has been gone for thousands of years, and you’re the only one that ever bothered to listen to her blathering. I’ll do as I like.” The voice moves closer and Samael tenses to spring, but the smaller voice steps closer again. </em></p><p>
  <em>“You should leave it alone, Gerri, or I’ll make you.” The voice is all bravado, but Samael feels a flicker of respect for this youngling that would put herself on the line for his sorry smoldering carcass.</em>
</p><p><em>He hears a swift movement and the smaller voice cries out. Samael can remain still no longer, he gathers what strength he has and leaps up, sweeping his wing clumsily forward and managing the luckiest strike of his very long life—neatly taking Gerrin’s head off and causing it to roll squishily past the onlookers, whose wide eyed gazes take in the suddenly upright </em>angel<em> in their midst before they charge. Samael folds his wings around the small one and vaults back over the edge of the crater, rolling painfully over broken wings down the jagged glass wall, coming to a rest again at the bottom groaning, on his back with the whimpering juvenile demon pressed against his chest. His wings relax, sagging weakly back against the floor of the crater, and the demon lifts her face to meet his molten gaze without fear, a bleeding stripe cutting diagonally across her left eyebrow, having narrowly missed her eye. </em></p><p>
  <em>“Your assistance is appreciated little one,” he rasps weakly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The name’s Mazikeen,” she states proudly, licking the trickle of blood as it reaches her lips. “And who’re you?”</em>
</p><p><em>“I…” he pauses, considering. </em>‘Lightbringer’<em>, his brother had called him mockingly. Even after eons, still jealous of that simple task assigned him:  Lighting the heavens. Yes. That is who I am. “I am no longer my father’s creature. I am… I am Lucifer. Lucifer the Morningstar.”</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. I Don't Go By That Name Anymore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Lucifer and Mazikeen spend another century or two holed up at the bottom of that crater, as Lucifer slowly works on regaining his strength. During the times he’s too weak or painful to move, they talk. Mazikeen teaches him about Hell, and he realizes she’s not the youngling he thought she was—apparently cocky and brash is merely the way she is. Lucifer smiles to himself as he admits their commonalities far outweigh their differences. </em>
</p><p><em>As his mobility starts to return to normal, he begins to teach her the proper way to use the curved knives—karambits—that she brandishes at the slightest opportunity. At first she resists (‘I can use them just fine, I can make </em>you<em> bleed’), but when she sees that he really does know what he’s doing, she eagerly trains with him, learning the finer points of knifework. He guides her in technique, she teaches him the no-holds-barred, anything goes methods the demons use and together they work out a deadly dance all their own that none will be able to stand against. His strength returns with time, though his burns continue to linger—the skin raw and tender enough that he has to steel himself not to flinch away from the slightest touches. Mazikeen makes several stealthy forays from the crater and obtains some clothing for him once he’s healed enough that he can stand to have </em>anything<em> against his raw nerves for more than a moment. He’s found that hell-forged weapons can harm him just as easily as celestial ones, so the extra layer of tough boiled leather is welcome, even if it does chafe his tender new skin. He grows used to this new discomfort as he has the constant oppressiveness of the Hellish atmosphere, the lack of soul-replenishing light, and the never-ending isolation. He’s grateful for Mazikeen’s company, for she keeps him from getting lost in his own misery—keeps his focus outside of his own head.</em></p><p>
  <em>His head is a mess. He learned early that Mazikeen isn’t one to speak about thoughts or feelings, unless they are anger, betrayal, or hatred. She listens eagerly to his rage-filled diatribes against his father and brother, against his mother who stood idly by as his siblings pinned and tortured him. He’s disturbed at the raptness of her expression as he describes his injuries in detail, but doesn’t let it show. As an angel, he’d worn every emotion proudly, eager to share his joys and sorrows with his siblings. Now, here, he’s slowly learning that only strengths can be displayed. Softer emotions display weaknesses that can be manipulated, taken advantage of by allies and enemies alike. He only has the one ally—Mazikeen—and he needs to keep her if he’s to complete his tasks here, whatever they may be. </em>
</p><p><em>He’s been in Hell for over half a thousand years before his wingbones heal enough for him to fold them excruciatingly away so they can continue healing without being on display. He’s refused to let Mazikeen touch them, so he feels far more comfortable when they’re no longer present. The new quill sheaths itch abominably, but he can’t reach all the feathers on his own, and since his only other option is a demon ally, he’ll deal with the itch for now. Eventually he should be able to rid himself of the sheaths by rubbing his wings against some of the rougher walls here, but that will need to wait until the bones are set completely. With his healing and nearly nonstop training with Mazikeen, he’s honed himself into an even fiercer weapon than he had been before. As a slightly lazy archangel he had been formidable, now he was beyond deadly. He’s applied himself to his regimen with a focus unlike anything he’s ever experienced before. Driven by his sense of betrayal, his pain and loneliness, and his growing fury at his father, his determination to make Hell </em>his<em> grows by the day. Finally, finally he’s strong enough to climb from the crater again, Mazikeen at his side. With her guidance, he begins to win the demons to his side. Bloody displays of strength, canny deals, and a complete lack of mercy for any that dissent to his right to lead them make up the bulk of his next few millennia. </em></p><p>
  <em>His ascent to the throne is fraught with blood and betrayals and littered with the corpses of enemies and allies alike. The demons are not above using the discord of his rise to supremacy to take out some of their own enemies, no matter which side they may be on. They all learn quickly to give Lucifer and Mazikeen a wide berth in battle—the two fight as a single devastating entity of whirling, razor-sharp blades and even sharper gleaming feathers. When the field of battle is emptied, Mazikeen can often be found watching over Lucifer as he grimly bathes in the sulfuric waters, carefully removing the caked ash, blood and gore from his somewhat ragged plumage. Ragged, because he has no one to help him restore them to any sort of order. No trusted siblings to preen and settle the feathers he cannot reach, no matter how he twists and contorts. He settles for diving beneath the reeking waters and flapping his wings there as though flying, hoping the waters can arrange them to minimize the discomfort of their disarray. </em>
</p><p><em>He takes no pride in his accomplishments in Hell; to a creature like him, the demons are mostly harmless except for their pestilential blades. Sure, they can make him bleed in a fistfight, but they can’t </em>crush<em> him the way he could them. Winning against them is nothing to boast of, just another step in his path to Hell domination, which is evidently what his father intended for him. When he does finally win the throne, the last of the holdouts either capitulating or decapitated, it feels… anticlimactic. There is no sense of completion, no thrill of a job well-done like he’d experienced with his stars, or even in arbitrating a dispute with his siblings. He receives no message from his father, as he’d resolutely prevented himself from hoping for. He settles himself in a hollowed-out cluster of basalt towers that resembles a fortress, and a city of sorts begins to take root around him. The demons call it Tenebris, and it lives up to its name. Everything is black, or a shade of black, and grey. Even the falling ash (ever-present since Lucifer lit the realm on fire with his landing) here is dark, and the bluish cast from the burning of the distant sulfur flats is dimmer, the city passageways cast into shadow by the towering columns. </em></p><p><em>Then, one day, a human appears. Or rather, a human </em>soul<em> appears, wandering terrified through the corridors and slowly amassing a threatening horde of demons trailing behind it, watching. Lucifer has been vaguely aware of what happens to the souls sent to this plane, but up ‘til now he’s never really been confronted with the technicalities of it. He catches sight of the parade of demons from his throne spire, and the vaguely human-shaped wisp that appears to be leading them. Interested in spite of himself, he spreads his finally-healed wings and glides to ground level. </em></p><p>
  <em>“Well, hello there,” Lucifer croons quietly. “How did you escape your cell?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It most likely doesn’t have one,” Mazikeen had seen him leave his throne, and appears at his side. “Sometimes we get them where their guilt isn’t really clear enough to set a loop. They usually wind up on a rack until something manifests for them.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh, really?”He turns to his demon sentinel. “That seems time-consuming. Why not just ask them?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ask them what?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You just… do you really never just speak to them?” Lucifer’s footing is unsure here, he’s not familiar with the process yet. Mazikeen shrugs indifferently. He turns to the soul before him, looking into its spectral eyes with a sinister smile. “Tell me, what is it you desire?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The answer echoes from the spirit, “I wish I hadn’t tried to keep the last one so long. She got away, alerted the villagers and they caught me.  Found all my prizes, took them away from me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As the breathy regret escapes the soul, it’s suddenly whisked away, wailing forlornly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What happened?” Lucifer glances curiously in the direction the soul had been taken.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He gave you the key to his guilt. He got sucked into his loop.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ah. Ha. Well, that seems much more efficient than waiting for them to spill it on their own, hm? Easier to get straight to the meat of it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The demons watching shuffle excitedly at this new idea. Torture is what they do, of course, but it can be incredibly frustrating when the goal is to get the soul into their loop, and they’re taking their sweet time spitting out what Hell needs to hear to prepare it for them. By finding out what it is the soul desires, Hell can extrapolate the best way to torture them by denying that. Half the gathered horde tears off to the dungeons to try this new trick, while the others clamor around their King with various questions about other difficulties they’ve come across. Lucifer listens carefully, knowing that these are likely some of the tasks his father had set for him. He offers advice for some immediately, and takes note of others with the intention to learn more and get back to the demon that brought the issue to him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>With these simple acts, Lucifer goes from being a King only in name to a true King, beloved by his subjects and sought out when existing methods aren’t working. The next few millennia are filled with hammering out new processes and protocols. Dull work to Lucifer’s jaded mind, but even he has to admit that Hell is slightly less disturbing when the souls are in their loops where they belong. The corridors no longer ring with cacophonous screams and groans of tortured souls constantly, only during those times when new souls arrive without a loop in place. Now that the demons have realized that simply asking can pull out the information they want, it’s become a point of pride to find the most creative tortures to draw those confessions out most quickly, so they can get back to their favorite positions… those of filling in the extra positions inside the loops themselves. Several more millennia slip by with Hell running like a top before Lucifer starts to notice a larger than usual influx of souls. His burns have finally healed completely, leaving him back with his angelic face and body. He can still manifest the scarred face at need, but he tends to save it for when he needs to intimidate. He needs to know what’s happening. He needs to see the sky again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I'm taking a trip topside, Mazikeen, to find out what’s going on up there.” The demon nods, though he doesn’t need her permission. He unfurls his wings and crosses the dimensional plane to Earth—his first time visiting since he’d traveled with Lilith, and he finds he’s surprised how little things have changed. It’s only been a few hundred years up here, to his tens of thousands in Hell. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The village where he lands is in flames, and bodies are strewn haphazardly everywhere. A war is roaring its way through the population, and feeding on anything in its path. He wanders the village, taking in the sheer volume of the damage. He’s become accustomed to violence and bloodshed in Hell, but here on Earth it seems more profane somehow—an atrocity. Suddenly he feels the need to be away from this place of death and destruction, and he wills his wings to take him somewhere happier.  He finds himself in a tavern of sorts, where the men and women are singing a song he’s never heard, and he finds himself listening raptly. Music has always been a favorite of his, and it’s been millennia since he’s heard it at all. He sits and soaks it in like dry soil absorbs a gentle rain, feeling it fill in the cracks and gaps that have developed in his fractured spirit. A clay mug dripping with froth appears in front of him and he glances up at the lovely face of his server, grinning as he reads her hungry expression. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Amenadiel tracks him down 2 days later, finding him sprawled in a pile with several other bodies sleeping soundly around him.</em>
</p><p><em>“Brother!” Lucifer crows happily, disentangling himself from the humans surrounding him. “It’s so good to see you! Welcome to Earth! Have you been here before? Come, they have this </em>wonderful—"</p><p>
  <em>“I received a message from Father that you had escaped your duties in Hell, and that I was to return you there immediately.” His tone is cold, face expressionless. Lucifer’s heart falls a bit at the mention of their father, then a bit more when Amenadiel reveals the reason for his appearance.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I only came up to find out why we were seeing so many more souls arriving than usual,” he defends himself petulantly. “When I saw…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s enough, Samael, it’s time to go.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t go by that name anymore, Amenadiel,” Now his own voice is cold. “You will address me as Lucifer, I refuse to be father’s poison anymore.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I won’t need to address you at all, because you’re going back to Hell. Now.” The detachment stings. There is no familiarity in his manner, no hint at the dimming memories Lucifer has of them from the Silver City. He feels the shoddy patches that the music and sunlight had placed on his splintered soul disintegrate like old plaster, revealing again the raw cavernous cracks just underneath.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Very well, then. I’ve found what I needed to know anyway.” He retreats back to Hell, fleeing the presence of this now-unfamiliar sibling.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The process repeats itself dozens, maybe hundreds of times as time passes. Lucifer escaping Hell’s clutches briefly, either for reconnaissance or simply because he can’t breathe another moment without seeing the sky. Always, Amenadiel tracks him and forces him to return to Hell. Sometimes he manages to hide, or trick some extra time from his dull sibling, but he finds himself desperate enough for contact with something from his old life that he actually looks forward to the reluctant attentions of his enforcer. He never truly fights him. Amenadiel is only an angel—and while he is certainly among the strongest and best warriors, he is no archangel, and Lucifer still has no desire to harm a sibling.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When he's in Hell he doesn't let himself think about the desolation of his loneliness, the lack of light, the way his shattered soul seems to stab and slice him every time he allows the memories too close to the surface. His fury against his family grows and he buries it deep, trying to substitute the fires of hatred for his dwindling light of divinity. As he makes more visits to Earth he learns more and more about the story that's been spread about him. At first the vilification infuriates him, but as time passes and his repressed memories dim further and further, the fabrications almost come to be remembered as truth. Of course he is unworthy of his father's love, of sunlight and fresh air and clear skies. He is selfish, and cunning, and lustful... The only things he truly fights are the perceptions that he lies, and that he is evil. These are too far of a reach even for his disillusioned state.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hell is Hell— it does what it does now without any real work or feedback from him and he grows bored, attempting his escapes more and more frequently, finally coming to a head when he arrives in 2011 and an opportunity presents itself to stay.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>******************</em>
</p><p>“Aiden Scott?” Chloe says into the silence when Lucifer finally stops speaking. “You arrived the day Aiden Scott was murdered?”</p><p>“Yes, Amenadiel managed to get himself shot and his celestial necklace stolen, then needed <em>my</em> help to track it down. The man that stole the necklace was the same one that shot the fighter, and we managed to track him down and get it back before its divinity drove anyone mad.”</p><p>She shakes her head and chuckles to herself, remembering the murderer, appearing to materialize out of thin air beside the lockers in a rain of loose cash.</p><p>
  <em>“I did it. I-I killed Aiden Scott. I'm sorry, it's-it's all my fault. I... I killed him.”</em>
</p><p>“I was just a beat cop then, but I worked that case with Dan. That arrest actually went a long way to help me make my bid for Detective. You’re the reason he confessed so easily, I presume?” She grins up at her partner, whose smile lights his eyes.</p><p>“It was rather offensive to me that he had killed that fighter, a man he professed to love as a <em>son</em>, for nothing more than refusing to play a part in his grand <em>plan</em>. You might say that it… struck a nerve.” He glances back up to his siblings. “I used the money that I earned with a little cage fighting match with Amenadiel to procure this building, and started the work to open Lux and make my home here. Where I’m apparently free to stay…” His voice trails off, as though he still can’t quite trust this offered freedom.</p><p>“You are,” Chloe reassures him, and he feels Trixie’s arms tighten around his waist again.</p><p>“Yes, well.” He brings his tumbler to his mouth before he realizes he’d emptied long ago. “There you have it—the tale of my Fall, and subsequent rise back to Earth.” He glances down at the child doing her best to graft herself to his side. “Urchin, I badly need a drink. Why don’t you latch onto your mother for awhile, hm?”</p><p>Lucifer gently extricates himself from between the Decker ladies and strides to the bar, pouring himself a measure and barely taking the time to taste it as he drinks it in one go. He keeps his back to his audience, disliking the silence in the room and trying to avoid thinking about what it means.</p><p>When he finally turns to face the room again, he finds Arael standing nearly within reach, and steps back in surprise. <em>Getting too used to humans,</em> he thinks wryly to himself, <em>I’ve forgotten how stealthy my siblings can be.</em></p><p>“Thank you for sharing your tale with us, brother.” Arael’s aquamarine gaze is steady. “I don’t know how I would have reacted if I had been present when Michael cast you down, but… I regret that I let his version of what happened affect my decision to cut contact with you for so very long.”</p><p>“It’s in the past, Arael, no point in dwelling on that,” Lucifer tries to brush it away. “You came through for me when I was in dire need of help, I think that more than makes up for anything that may have—”</p><p>“It really doesn’t, Lucifer.” Arael interrupts, pressing a gentle palm to his shoulder. “One day, I hope you will trust me enough to show me the scars that you still carry from your Fall.”</p><p>“No one wants to see that face, Arael. It even unsettles Amenadiel. It drives humans to madness.” His voice is bitter and he carefully doesn’t look in Chloe’s direction as he takes another drink from his refilled glass.</p><p>“We’re not human, though, Lu,” Azrael has crossed the room to join her brothers. “I need to be going, but... I agree with Arael. I… hope you would trust me with that side of you, too. One day.” She darts in for a hug, too fast for him to even tense, and then she’s gone in a faint rustle of smoky feathers.</p><p>He glances over at the couch, where Trixie’s head can be seen peering wide-eyed over the back at the place where Azrael had just been. He gives her a small smirk. “You see what I mean about the wings, Urchin? They can be dangerous things.”</p><p>“What?” she seems surprised at his comment. “No, I wasn’t looking at her, I was looking at <em>you!</em> Is that why you won’t show me your face?  Because you don’t trust me?  You’re afraid I’ll… run away, or try to hurt you like Mommy and Daddy did?”</p><p>He huffs an exasperated sigh. “Beatrice, I’ve told you why I refuse to show you that face—I’m trying to preserve your sanity.  Though the fact that you keep asking to see it makes me wonder if that’s a futile effort…”</p><p>“Lucifer…” Chloe’s voice is low, and he abandons the sentence.</p><p>“It’s intended as a punishment, Spawn, not only for me but for the guilty. As you are neither of those things, there is nothing that could convince me to show you that horror.”</p><p>“But I’m not scared of Maze’s face!” The child argues vehemently, “I wasn’t afraid of your red eyes, OR your wings!”</p><p>“And I find I’m grateful for that, as it would have been awkward getting you to the hospital if you had been struggling against me in a panic. I’m sure the staff would have thought I’d kidnapped you. I don’t wish to upset you, child, but the answer is, and will remain a very firm no. Your parents will agree with me, especially since at least one of them is still struggling to come to terms with what they saw. It’s not a matter of trust, Beatrice—it’s a matter of protecting you… which is something I will <em>always</em> strive to do.”</p><p>“You know, he’s right, Monkey.” Chloe intervenes, as the girl opens her mouth to argue more. Lucifer glances at her, but her gaze is fixed on her daughter. “He <em>is</em> protecting you. But I think he’s protecting me, too. You remember I told you about how scared I was, when we went to Rome?” The girl nods suspiciously at her mother, but remains quiet, willing to listen. “If <em>you</em> see his face, and you’re not scared at all… I think Lucifer might be afraid that that would make me feel even <em>worse</em> for reacting the way I did.” Trixie’s eyes widen and she transfers her gaze to Lucifer, who does his best to look solemnly concerned. He catches Chloe’s wink from the corner of his eye and hides a smirk.</p><p>“You wouldn’t want your mother to feel badly for her reaction that she’s worked so hard to make up for, would you Urchin?” The girl shakes her head silently, and Lucifer nods seriously. “Your support and bravery are never in doubt, Urchin. What did that wise lion say to his cub, in that movie you love so much?”</p><p>“Being brave doesn’t mean you go looking for trouble.” Trixie sighs.</p><p>“Exactly so,” Lucifer grins, pats her knee comfortingly and stands up. “Now, Arael… would you like to stay for dinner?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. You Missed Me!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arael politely declines the invitation for dinner, but accepts Lucifer’s invitation to visit again, with the caveat that he give warning when possible to avoid any awkward situations. Trixie watches eagerly as Arael winks cheerfully at her before unfurling his wings and vanishing.</p><p>“His wings are nice,” Trixie comments casually, “but they’re not as glowy as yours, Lucifer.”</p><p>He smirks at her blatant attempt to stroke his ego to get him to reveal his wings again. “Yes, my wings are unique among the Host, Azrael used to tease me that I infused a little starlight into them while I was working in the heavens.”</p><p>“Did you??” The girl’s eyes are wide with awe, and he’s quick to disparage the idea. He moves toward the kitchen, and they go with him to start dinner preparations.</p><p>“No, of course not,” He laughs. “My wings had a light to them long before dear old Dad assigned me to the creation of the stars, it’s just the way he made me. Michael was never happy about that… he was always disappointed that his wings were flat black—no gloss, no iridescence. It makes sense, though, aesthetically speaking.”</p><p>“How so?” Chloe asks curiously.</p><p>“Well, of course, we’re twins. So, created from the same material at the same time, to complement and contrast one another. I represent light, truth, desire, and Will. Michael… well, he is darkness, deceit, fear, and Power. Where I am the Lightbringer, he is the Sword of God.”</p><p>“Does he look like you?” Trixie pipes up eagerly.</p><p>“Exactly like me, Urchin,” Lucifer confirms grimly, “and he’s very good at acting like me as well, when it suits him. He’s also very good at knowing things that you wouldn’t think he should know. In fact, Detective, if my father really is intending to rescind my ban from Heaven, we should think about setting up some sort of system for you to be certain I am me.”</p><p>“Oh, I think I’ll be able to tell,” Chloe replies confidently. “<em>No one</em> can irritate me quite the way that you do.”</p><p>Trixie giggles, and Lucifer looks as though he wants to argue, but decides against it. His Detective is clever, she probably would be able to tell nearly immediately. And if all else fails she could just get him somewhere quiet and ask to see his wings. He starts to remove ingredients and set them on the gleaming countertops.</p><p>“Just… perhaps a little wing verification for important moments, Detective?” He suggests hesitantly. He certainly doesn’t want a repeat of the Garden—not with his Detective. She apparently reads his intention and the humor in her eyes softens to understanding. She crosses the kitchen and wraps her arms around him from behind, pressing her cheek against his shoulders.</p><p>“I’ll make sure, Lucifer,” she reassures him, and he relaxes back against her. “What are we making?”</p><p>“I’ve been saving this dish for when the Urchin is here, because I know how much she enjoys a sticky mess…” Trixie’s eyes light up and Chloe rolls hers. “So here’s your chance, Spawn, wash up well—we’re making meat loaf.”</p><p>“Meat loaf, really?” Chloe’s surprised.  She loves meat loaf, but usually Lucifer chooses fancier fare for them.</p><p>“Do you not like it?” He changes course immediately, “We can make something else, perhaps just regular burgers—I can get some buns and toppings in no time—”</p><p>“No, I <em>do</em> like it! I just… didn’t think <em>you</em> did.”</p><p>“I’ve nothing against simple fare, Detective. With the right ingredients even those can be a culinary masterpiece. I simply like to spoil you, when you let me.” He grins at her, his dark eyes sparkling, drawing her in. “Worry not, I’ve already tested this recipe, and it will be delicious.”</p><p>He pulls a shiny folding step stool out from somewhere and sets it in front of the counter where he plops down a large mixing bowl. <em>How long has he had that?</em> She wonders, <em>It’s not like he needs it, he can practically reach the ceiling!</em> He gives Chloe potatoes to peel for the mashed potatoes, and slips his ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron on over his clothing. She laughs and obliges as he sets the ground beef, eggs, a bag of breadcrumbs, catsup, and several jars of spices within easy reach and rolls up his sleeves. He waits for Trixie to finish thoroughly washing her hands and when she presents them for inspection he dramatically gestures to the step stool.</p><p>“All right, Offspring, we can begin!”</p><p>**********************</p><p>“Hello, Dan,” Linda enters the visitation room confidently and gives the guard in the corner a friendly nod. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner, it appears there was more red tape in arranging an ‘unofficial’ visit than we originally thought.”</p><p>“Linda, hi!” Dan breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of someone who might actually be able to explain some things to him. “Thank you so much for agreeing to come, I don’t… I can’t— there’s just so much that…” he lets the end of that sentence dangle, his eyebrows lifting at her hopefully and she feels a tiny flicker of sympathy for the man.</p><p>She knows what he’s seen. And if she hadn’t already been treating Lucifer for nearly a year by the time she saw his face, who knows how much worse her reaction may have been? She still feels a small flicker of shame at her total shutdown, even though she knows it was probably the best reaction she could have had. Her memories of that night are dimmed by the intense wash of fear she had experienced, but she remembers the lost look on Lucifer’s face when it flickered back into his normal appearance as hope turned to despair, to acceptance. That tiny nod to himself, that internal ‘Of course, this is how it ends.’ As though a creature such as himself could never expect anything different. She had demanded that he tell her the truth, he had reluctantly complied… and she had completely checked out—leaving her floundering and distraught patient to fend for himself while she had a mental breakdown for several weeks. <em>Thank… someone… for Maze.</em> She thinks to herself dryly. She wonders if Dan has put <em>that</em> particular puzzle piece together yet.  </p><p>“Yes,” she answers his unspoken question, and sees his shoulders sag as tension leaves them. “I know, it’s quite a lot to process. And it sounds like you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle in the meantime. Want to tell me about it?”</p><p>Dan glances nervously at the guard, and gestures to the game table in the opposite corner. “Do you wanna sit?  We can play cards or something while we talk, if you want?”</p><p>“We can sit,” Linda gives him a cautious smile. “But I’d rather focus on you than cards, if that’s okay.”</p><p>“Okay. Okay, Linda, I <em>really</em> appreciate this.” His voice is higher than usual, and he’s tense, but he seems eager to talk. She allows herself to have a little hope for this man who’s found himself tangled in events much larger than himself. They take seats on opposite sides of the table, and Dan lowers his voice, probably hoping to sound less like a lunatic to the guard. Linda has already warned them that she’s going to be indulging Dan’s “metaphors”, so she’s not worried about how she’ll be interpreted. “How much do you know?”</p><p>“Can we be more specific?  Are you asking how much I know about the situation that landed you here?”</p><p>“Yeah… I mean, I guess that’s part of it. I mean, you know about… about <em>him</em>, yeah? That it’s real?” Dan’s eyes bore into hers, and she feels a little shiver of unease flit down her spine. His eyes hold the intensity of a zealot, and she’s suddenly very glad that he’s in here and not still out in the world while he’s in this mental state.</p><p>“Yes, I’m aware that Lucifer has been telling us the truth since his arrival. But I’d like to hear about your particular situation from your own point of view, if you don’t mind. It’s good to start with a solid foundation.” Linda gives him a comforting smile. “You know this isn’t a formal session, but I’ll remind you that anything you tell me will be treated with strict confidentiality, though it would probably benefit you if you would allow me to discuss our talks with your actual psychiatrist.”</p><p>“Oh. Yeah, that’s fine, you can talk to him. Especially if it shows him that I’m willing to start, uh, participating. He says I need to do that in order to work on getting out of here.” He takes a shallow breath, then stops and consciously pulls in a deeper one. "Okay. I’ll start with, uh, when I lost my job?  Is that far enough back?”</p><p>“Sure, Dan, let’s start there,” She makes sure to keep her tone and expression calm, letting him draw on her serenity to settle himself a bit. He relates the events that led to his firing—of visiting the criminal Tiernan and telling him that Lucifer had purposely crippled his son—a lie—in a horribly underhanded attempt to punish Lucifer for his perceived role in the murder of Charlotte Richards. That had backfired spectacularly, and could have resulted in the deaths or serious injuries of Lucifer, Trixie, and Eve, had Lucifer been anyone <em>other</em> than his supernatural self. The shooter had been apprehended and had turned over plenty of testimony on Tiernan, who had given up Dan’s involvement without a second thought. Linda doesn’t interrupt him, but makes notes and a list of questions she wants to ask once he’s done with his story.</p><p>He continues his tale, telling about the officer that had approached him as he packed his desk after being fired, about the priest that had been arrested for poisoning Lucifer. Dan had decided to meet with the man himself to save Chloe time, only to be sucked into the man’s plan, as Chloe had been before him. Unfortunately, Dan didn’t have the experience of working as closely with Lucifer as Chloe had, and was already disinclined to take Lucifer’s side in anything due to his irrational blame placement for Charlotte’s death. So, when he saw flickers of Lucifer’s face manifest from the hidden room, along with the glowing eyes, he had gone into a full-fledged flight response… right up until it reversed into a fight response, where he had plotted to murder the Devil himself. When he had arrived at the penthouse, all Hell had broken loose (nearly literally), creating the perfect storm of everything that could go wrong.  Ella had entered the penthouse directly behind Lucifer as Dan was preparing to shoot him, at the same time Chloe had appeared from the hallway on the other side of the room and Lucifer had unfurled his wings to shield Ella from getting shot accidentally. Dan had recoiled in his fearful response to Lucifer’s unexpected, startlingly <em>large white wings</em>, and as his arms had automatically windmilled to keep his balance, Chloe had been nearly fatally shot. Only the fact that Lucifer could literally fly her to the hospital in seconds (and, Linda knows, the fact that Chloe now has a store of divinity that helped her heal faster than any human… but Dan doesn’t need that information) saved her from bleeding out. At that point Dan had been arrested, but, as he was raving about glowing eyes, burned faces, the devil and giant wings, he was brought to this secure psychiatric facility rather than jail. Again, Linda doesn’t allow any hints of her thoughts or judgement cross her face, and Dan finishes his tale with his recent visit from Trixie, who had lectured him about not trying to find all the facts, and for attacking Lucifer, who she considers family.</p><p>“I… I just don’t understand how <em>the Devil</em> has a better standing with my family than <em>I do</em>.” Dan laments, and for a moment, Linda hears echoes of Reese in his tone. She lets the silence settle around them for a moment as she considers her approach.</p><p>“You’ve been through a lot in a short time, Dan,” she offers slowly. “I can understand why you’d be feeling overwhelmed by it all.”</p><p>“Overwhelmed is an understatement, Linda,” he buries his face in his hands for a moment, before threading his fingers up through his hair in frustration. “I see his eyes, that <em>face</em>, those <em>wings</em>… I see them all the time! I don’t… I don’t know what to do! He shouldn’t <em>be here!”</em></p><p>“I understand the fear that you’re experiencing right now, Dan.” She has complete sympathy here, having been in that particular position, though fortunately without the extra complications he’s experiencing as a result of his reactions. “I think you can make it through this if you’re willing to work for it, to work <em>with</em> us to help you understand how your reactions to that fear led you here.”</p><p>He looks up at her, lost.</p><p>“I’ll tell you something, Dan. Right now, you remind me a lot of my ex-husband Reese.” Dan’s brows furrow in confusion and she continues slowly. “He was a reporter, he died a few months ago—actually he was working a case with Chloe and Lucifer, about the serial poisoner.”</p><p>“The reporter?” He offers tentatively.</p><p>“Yes, I thought you’d met him.” Linda confirms. “He had stumbled across who Lucifer really is, and came barreling into my office during one of Lucifer’s sessions in order to prove it to me. He was so desperate to ‘save’ me, that he tried to shoot Lucifer, right there in my office.”</p><p>“Is that… what did Lucifer do?” Dan’s face pales, Getty’s notes hadn’t mentioned anything about <em>that</em> little episode.</p><p>“Lucifer didn’t do anything, other than complain about the bullet hole in his ruined Burberry.” Linda chuckles a little at the memory of his indignant expression. “But I’m going to tell you exactly the same thing I told Reese at the time. Lucifer is a <em>good man</em>. I’ve been seeing him professionally for years now, and I haven’t come across the slightest indication of anything evil about him. I also consider him one of my closest friends.”</p><p>Dan’s shocked expression morphs into one of confusion, and Linda lets her smile grow a little more. “Your face looks just like Lucifer’s did when he heard me say that. He has a lot of trouble believing anyone can see the Devil as anything other than a monster, as evil. But truly Dan, I’ve done interviews and sessions with people before that I would willingly label as sadistic and evil, and Lucifer is nowhere near that list.”</p><p>“But he’s…”</p><p>“The Devil?” she interrupts gently, and he nods frantically, flicking a nervous glance at the guard. “I know. But I’ve yet to find anything written about him that matches what <em>I know</em>. And I have had to ask myself… how many of these authors have had the personal relationship with him that <em>I </em>do?  The frequent face-to-face interactions that <em>I’ve</em> had with him?” She catches his gaze with her own and lowers her voice earnestly. “I’ve had to ask myself, who understands him better—someone who’s read about him in a hundred dusty old books translated through how many languages from an unknown source, or someone who’s had almost-daily interactions with him over the course of several years?”</p><p>Dan sits in silence for a long time, gaze flickering between her face, the table, and the guard as he considers what she’s said.</p><p>“I need to be going, Dan, but I can come back and we can talk more. I’d like you to think about the things we’ve discussed today before I do, and I’d like you to think back about <em>your own</em> experiences with him throughout the years, okay?  Think about <em>your</em> reactions to him, not just on a personal level, but from a Detective’s point of view. Look for anything that might mark him as someone dangerous, or even someone safe, from your personal observations. We can talk through them next time.”</p><p>He considers this for a moment, then nods slowly. She gives him a smile and stands from her plastic chair. “Try to keep participating in your sessions with Dr. Selwyn. I’ll be conferring with him about your sessions. Share what you can with him, and I’m sure he’ll be able to help you with the more… mundane parts of your predicament, all right?</p><p>Dan huffs a laugh and agrees. “Thanks again, Linda. I can’t tell you how much of a relief…”</p><p>“We’ll talk again soon, Dan.  Take care.”</p><p>********************</p><p>Dan lays on the cot in his cell, facing the blank wall. Linda’s asked him to do exactly what he’s been trying to avoid doing:  Think back over the entire time he’s known Lucifer, and pick it apart. Look for tells, signs, gut feelings. He has a notepad and a marker beside him—they wouldn’t let him have a pen or a pencil; apparently sharp pointy objects are a big no-no in the psych ward. He closes his eyes and goes all the way back to that very first case, that pop singer drive-by. He’d been pressuring Chloe to close the case, trying to keep her from her habit of digging too deep, distracting her from the Palmetto fiasco—but she wouldn’t let it go and now here she was, swanning around with this handsome playboy glued to her side <em>while they were still married</em>, even introducing him to their <em>daughter</em>.</p><p>
  <em>“Perhaps you should refrain from arguing in front of the child. It's unbecoming.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don't know whether to laugh or to shoot you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Surprise me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Isn't he funny, Daddy?”</em>
</p><p>Even at that first meeting, he had not only stood up for Chloe (“<em>She is smart, you’re the dimwit.”</em>), but advocated for their daughter when they had started to argue in front of her. And Trixie had loved him for it. A few weeks later Dan had stopped by the house with Trixie and found Lucifer there with Chloe in a towel and jumped to the conclusion that they were sleeping together… which both had denied. Lucifer definitely wasn’t the type to hide a conquest, so he had actually believed them, but it sure didn’t make him any more inclined to like the man. Then Malcolm had been back, and unhinged. He remembered racing to save Lucifer from the man, and finding him unconscious on the floor of his penthouse with bloodless bullet holes in his tuxedo, then sitting up with a deep gasp, mildly surprised, but deeply offended at being shot by the murdering philanthropist downstairs and immediately leaving to go get her arrested. He recalls Lucifer’s genuine disgust at the Satanic murders, at the supposed tribute to him, personally. Then his surprise, when he had willingly surrendered himself to them, when Dan had turned in his gun and confessed to stealing the gun from evidence and being coerced into helping Malcolm frame Lucifer for those murders. He thinks about the high-powered attorney that had showed up to help him navigate the charges, that had negotiated fiercely for him to keep his job (even with a demotion)—all for the sake of her unnamed client. She would only say that she had owed them a favor. He'd heard that Lucifer had been shot at the hangar where Malcolm had taken Trixie, but he'd been in lockup and Lucifer had seemed fine the next time he saw him, so he'd discounted that story. Now he wonders...</p><p>He remembers bonding with the man over their shared admiration of the action stars in the Body Bags and Weaponizer franchises. Getting punched in the nose at the hospital after getting in his face on what had clearly been a <em>very</em> rough day. And really—he saw how easily Lucifer had tossed Rivas across that room, lifted and pinned him against the wall, how easily he had fought and disarmed those armed men at the art gallery when they were getting the ingredients for Chloe’s cure. Lucifer could have easily killed him with only a punch to the face… but he hadn’t even broken his nose, though the strike was perfectly placed for it. For the strength that he now knows the man can wield, he’d given him the barest lovetap. His next strange bonding moments when Lucifer had tried to get inside his head when they were investigating the murder of Chloe’s father’s killer. In the sauna with Boris, where he forcefully stated that the world would be a better place without him. On the stage at the improv group, talking about hurting people when he opens up to them. Dan shakes his head, taking up his notepad and marker and making some notes so he doesn’t forget anything when Linda comes back.</p><p>Then the trial for Warden Perry, and going to see the Alhambra Triads after their lead witness had been murdered to try to track down a lead. Admitting he’d slept with Charlotte, who…</p><p><em>Whoa. How… how is it possible that Charlotte was Lucifer’s step-mom? </em>Dan’s head spins, and he suddenly feels nauseated. <em>I mean… I knew the family was messed up but now… how does </em>any <em>of that make sense??</em> And that had been when he’d merely thought Lucifer was just a whack-job. He’d been so protective of Charlotte, though, they were definitely close.</p><p>
  <em>“Well, as long as you promise to never touch Charlotte again.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, it's not a problem.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Good. 'Cause the last thing I need is a step-Dan.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You say some really weird things, man.”</em>
</p><p>Dan stares at the blank wall blankly, until the rattle of his lunch tray brings him out of his reverie. <em>I can’t deal with this now, maybe Linda can give me some insight later.</em> He gets up to grab his tray, and listlessly plows his way through the bland fare, staring at the pudding cup in trepidation. He realizes that he’d conveniently forgotten about Lucifer’s relationship with Charlotte—whatever it may have been—when she was killed. Dan had been blaming him for her death, and had completely disregarded how close they had been. Lucifer had been hurting too, but he’d simply… allowed Dan to rage at him. He’d even seemed truly interested in her research into Pierce, as though he’d had no idea it had existed. If Lucifer knew about Pierce—and was Pierce really Cain, then, as Lucifer had claimed?—but <em>didn’t</em> know Charlotte had known… how had she found out about Pierce being the Sinnerman? He finishes his pudding and places the tray back by the door, returning to his evaluation.</p><p>So far, his list is a bit haphazard, a mix of observations, questions, and suspicions. The Evil page is conspicuously empty (except for EYES and FACE), the Questions page is understandably full, and the Suspicions page is populated with things like “total dick”, “super strong”, and “seriously messed up”.  He glares at the empty “Evil” page.  <em>Does throwing tomatoes at me count as evil? Punching me in the face? Stealing my pudding? Making me look bad at work? Probably not. There has to be something I’m missing here. </em>He reluctantly adds a new page and heads it “Not Evil”, and the marker flies with the memories he’s dredged up. Protecting Chloe, protecting Trixie, getting the lawyer for Dan, catching murderers, putting Dan (and most of the precinct, honestly) on the “on the house” list at Lux, his genuine affection for Charlotte.</p><p>He looks back over the pages again, and comes to the reluctant conclusion that maybe Linda and Trixie are right. Maybe he should have tried to get more information than that single source before acting. Maybe he should have talked to someone. He wonders if Amenadiel can come talk to him. If he truly <em>is</em> Lucifer’s brother… does that make him an angel, or a demon? </p><p><em>Oh my God. </em>(God is real. Is it still okay to think and say that? God is REAL.)<em> Maze. Maze really is a demon.</em> He thinks about that for a long moment. He’d worked with her to help take down Warden Perry when he’d gotten away with Chloe’s father’s murder… and he didn’t really regret it. <em>That certainly explains how she was able to knock me out, strip me, and get me to Chloe’s without help.</em> He decides that she actually makes <em>more</em> sense as a demon… and it also explains why she’s so good at her job. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to drown out the rest of the world. <em>Yeah, I definitely need to talk to Linda some more.</em></p><p>
  <em>*******************</em>
</p><p>Trixie <em>loves</em> learning to make meat loaf. Lucifer even lets her make individual loafs in fun shapes, though he warns her that they’re going to look very differently when they’ve been cooked. </p><p><em>Wow, was he right</em>. She thinks to herself.  They all turned into amorphous blobs in the heat of the oven, but they still taste delicious.</p><p>They chat about their day over dinner, Trixie pretends she doesn’t notice her mom grabbing Lucifer’s hand under the table and Lucifer tells a funny story about the time Amenadiel was flying and accidentally ran into a bridge.</p><p>When the dishes are cleared away, Lucifer agrees to be dragged into another round of Monopoly. Trixie beats him into submission in less than an hour, and she and Chloe duke it out for another hour while Lucifer mans the bank. Chloe manages to beat Trixie in the end, and Lucifer notices her fist is clenched in her trouser pocket as they pack away the game.</p><p>“Detective?  Is everything alright?” She lifts her eyebrows at him, and he gestures to her hip.</p><p>“Oh… I didn’t realize what I was doing.”  She sheepishly pulls her hand from her pocket and reluctantly unfolds her fingers, revealing the shoe token.</p><p>“What—?” He looks in the box in confusion, finding the shoe token in its place.</p><p>“I, umm…” her cheeks flush, and it floods down her neck, staining her chest. “When you were hurt, they brought me the bag of your belongings, that you’d had on you… and I found this at the bottom, and… I’ve kind of been carrying it with me ever since.”</p><p>“Detective!” He huffs a soft laugh, reaching out his fingers to pluck it gently from her palm. “I looked for that piece, you know. I’d intended to take it with me when I left… as a momento. It was the only thing I could think of that might be able to withstand the atmosphere for any length of time. But I thought I had misplaced it. It’s from your game, you know.”</p><p>“Yes, it’s been missing for quite a while,” she grins at him, loving the softness she sees in his eyes as he gazes back at her. “But I found that carrying it… kept you closer.”</p><p>“Would you prefer to carry the piece from <em>my</em> set?” He chuckles. “We could carry our matching shoes then. And it’s not as though anyone wants to <em>play</em> as the shoe, anyway.”</p><p>“You want this one back?” Chloe asks hesitantly.</p><p>“Well, I’ll admit that I was disappointed when I couldn’t find it. It was a good reminder of that time when we had just been… happy.” Trixie grins at him, remembering the night she’d bargained to paint the sparkly unicorn on his face for her top hat piece. “But of course, it <em>is</em> your piece, to do with as you wish. And I do have the luxury of your presence, and Beatrice’s much more frequently now, so perhaps the memento isn’t as necessary as it once was.”</p><p>“Matching shoes, hm?” Chloe smirks, and snatches the piece from the box, slipping it in her pocket. “I like it.”</p><p>Lucifer folds his long fingers around his piece and tucks it into his own waistcoat pocket, patting it affectionately as though to make sure it’s safely in place and Chloe feels the light in her chest thrum with contentment. It does that quite often when they’re together, and Chloe sometimes wonders at her easy acceptance of it. But when she thinks about it, it always leads her back to Lucifer. The divinity that lives within her feels like <em>him</em>, and he feels like <em>home</em>. She can’t be anything less than accepting of something that reminds her so intimately of the man she loves—if God is to be believed, her literal soulmate. <em>It’s like Linda said during my last session… I’m a miracle, my boyfriend is the Devil… this is really just another Thursday for me now.</em></p><p>She watches Trixie and Lucifer bickering—her daughter is trying to talk him into a movie, and he’s arguing that Chloe won’t allow it because of arbitrary rules like bedtime. She could put an end to it, but she loves watching them interact so much… her daughter and her devil. Finally, he casts a pleading look in her direction and she goes to his rescue, laughing at the look of blatant relief in his eyes as she approaches.</p><p>“C’mon Trix, we’ve got to get going, you’ve got school tomorrow and you still need to get your bath.” Trixie groans dramatically, and drags herself off to use the restroom before they go. Chloe notices how Lucifer’s face had fallen when she announced their departure and wraps her arm around his waist, leaning in to brush a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Will you come back to the apartment with us?”</p><p>“Are you sure? I had intended to give you space today—” He leans unconsciously into her embrace.</p><p>“And we decided we’d rather have <em>you</em> than space,” she interrupts gently, then adds hesitantly, “Unless you need space from us? Or from Trixie?”</p><p><em>“Never</em>, Detective.” He sounds scandalized at the mere idea. “I was… concerned about wearing out my welcome.”</p><p>“Lucifer, <em>we</em> came to see <em>you</em> because we <em>missed you</em>.”</p><p>“You did, didn’t you?” He turns to her with a look of delight spreading across his handsome features. “You <em>missed </em>me!”</p><p>She laughs gaily as he sweeps her up and spins her in a circle, his lips meeting hers as he lets her slowly slide down his body to the floor. Their kiss has time to be enjoyed before the water faucet in the bathroom shuts off and they separate, Lucifer placing a gentle kiss on Chloe’s forehead as Trixie traipses back into the room, ready to go.</p><p>“Is Lucifer at least coming back with us?” She asks hopefully, glancing at the embracing pair. Chloe adds her hopeful gaze to Trixie’s and Lucifer’s tentative hold on his altruism disintegrates.</p><p>“I’ll come with you, Urchin, but you realize this won’t relieve you of having your bath and being sent to bed immediately after, yes?” He lifts an eyebrow at Trixie’s gleeful cheer.</p><p>“I know.  But I’ll get to see you in the morning before school, and you make <em>awesome</em> pancakes!”</p><p>“Ah, my true value is revealed,” he quips lightly, as Trixie rolls her eyes. “Allow me to retrieve some clothing and we can be off, then.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Nothing to Concern Yourself Over</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There's a link to a "bonus chapter" in the middle here so I didn't have to change the rating of this story. It has no plot to it, and the bonus work is rated EXPLICIT, but I wasn't allowed to find out what happened after until I wrote it down.  And if I had to write it... I figured I might as well post it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The entire ride back to the apartment Lucifer stares quietly out the passenger window, lost in thought. He’s never had people that would <em>miss</em> him, people that want to be around him just because they <em>like</em> him. He’ll have to be sure to ask Linda the best way to approach this long-term, how best to earn his keep. For now, fulfilling Trixie’s breakfast request seems a reasonable place to start.</p><p>“Hey,” He’s so deep in thought that Chloe has to nudge him as she turns to exit the car. “You coming inside, or are you planning to sit in the car all night?”</p><p>He blinks, and a slow smile spreads across his face. Trixie’s already at the apartment door, unlocking it, so he replies quietly, “You already know my opinion on being in a car for extended periods without having sex, Detective.”</p><p>“Still ew,” She laughs, rolling her eyes at her partner. “Come on then, I’ll get Trixie’s bath started and we can have a nightcap.”</p><p>“I’ll meet you inside, Detective, I’ll have a smoke before I join you.”  She wrinkles her nose at him, but doesn’t say anything because a) he’s the Devil and health issues don’t really affect him, and b) somehow he manages to never smell or taste like cigarettes. She’s given up trying to figure out why, and has just decided it’s a Lucifer thing. She squeezes his hand lightly and heads into the apartment. By the time she readies Trixie’s bath and changes into her pajamas, Lucifer is perched comfortably on the couch with a tumbler of his scotch.</p><p>“I’ve readied a glass of your swill for you, Detective, it’s on the bar… airing out.” He sniffs distastefully and she laughs at his snobbery.</p><p>“It’s wine, Lucifer. Cheap wine, but still wine.”</p><p>“It’s swill, love. Trust me on that.”</p><p>“But swill it get me tipsy?”  She teases him as she takes her glass and moves to the couch, and he groans, “I think it swill.”</p><p>“And you have the audacity to complain about <em>my</em> puns, darling?”</p><p>“And yet, you’re still the <em>wine</em> that I want.” She sits next to him and pats his knee playfully, inspiring an eye roll from him—a rarity for her.</p><p>“Ah, Detective we all make occasional <em>pour</em> decisions,” he replies dryly, and she bursts into giggles, leaning against him contentedly. “One day perhaps I’ll convince you to let me educate that palette of yours.”</p><p>“Hey, I <em>like</em> my cheap wine. We can’t <em>all</em> have your fancy-schmancy tastes, you know.”</p><p>“Not <em>fancy-schmancy—"</em></p><p>“—Sophisticated!” she finishes with him, and now they both laugh. His arm settles around her shoulders comfortably, his fingers lazily stroking the sleeve of her sweater as they snuggle together in comfortable silence.  They’ve come a long way in the past few weeks, and one of their new habits is to take some time to simply <em>be</em> together. Sometimes talking, others not… but taking the time to just bask in being together. Linda had suggested it, and surprisingly, Lucifer had leapt upon it. Chloe has noticed that he’s a bit like a cat—for all his personal space preferences with people, he loves being touched by those he’s accepted into his circle. He leans into Chloe’s casual, affectionate touches without even realizing he does it. She’s also noticed that with Trixie and Ella, while he doesn’t often initiate touch with them he’s moved from protesting, to tolerating, to welcoming their various little touches and embraces.</p><p>“Thank you for missing me today,” he breaks the silence, rubbing his stubbled cheek against the crown of head. “I know it wasn’t a… happy story to hear, but… I must admit that having you and the Urchin there made the telling somehow more bearable.”</p><p>“I’m glad we were there, too.” She agrees quietly. “You’re right, of course, it was… terrible to hear. I don’t like what happened to you, Lucifer.” She feels him start to pull away minutely, to fold into himself and she tightens her arm around his waist as she continues, “But I’m glad that I know about it. It helps me understand you a little bit better… and I swear if I see your father again I <em>will</em> punch him.”</p><p>She feels him relax against her again as he huffs a disbelieving laugh; at her threat or at her declaration that she’s glad she knows his story, she doesn’t know. She feels his lips graze her hair and he murmurs, “I don’t deserve you.”</p><p>“Oh, you definitely deserve me. Every stubborn, abrasive, judgmental, pedantic, boring bit of me is absolutely what you deserve.” She leans into him, pressing her lips to the thin cotton covering his shoulder.</p><p>“Ah, but with all that comes all the selflessness, the nobility, the <em>goodness</em>… and the love.”</p><p>“So, so much love,” she confirms happily, and a chuckle rumbles in his chest under her ear. “You deserve that, Lucifer.”</p><p>She feels a sigh suffuse her hair, and they bask in each other’s closeness, sipping their drinks until Trixie comes downstairs, pink-skinned and yawning with the warmth of her bath.</p><p>“Why don’t you guys ever turn on the TV on when you’re sitting there?” She asks curiously.  “Don’t you get bored? I never even catch you smooching.”</p><p>“The proper term, Urchin, is ‘snogging’, and your mother assures me that you are far too young to witness that. Also, my hearing is far too good for you to sneak up on me, so of course you wouldn’t catch us.”</p><p>“But—”</p><p>“And we don’t turn on the TV because sometimes it’s just nice to sit and enjoy each other’s company after a long day of noise and bustle.” Chloe butts in, torn between embarrassment and laughter, before Trixie can ask more personal questions. She has no doubt that Trixie will be trying to get more answers about their relationship from Lucifer when she’s not around to referee, and makes a mental note to go over child-appropriate conversation topics with him one more time before that can happen. She’s sure he wouldn’t share anything too inappropriate, but there’s a lot of grey area there, and Trixie is definitely invested in the details of their relationship—to the point that she’s already asked Lucifer if he was intending to marry her mother.</p><p>“Conversation with yours truly is far better than anything you’ll find on Netflix, Spawn,” Lucifer adds confidently, and Trixie giggles, coming to lean her elbows on the back of the couch just behind them.</p><p>“Yeah, you <em>are</em> pretty funny,” she agrees.</p><p>“Ready for your story, Trix?” Chloe leans forward to set her glass on the coffee table in front of them, and steadfastly tries to ignore the chill along her side and shoulders where Lucifer’s heat had been as she stands and walks to her daughter’s room. She reaches the doorway and turns back, seeing Trixie whispering something in Lucifer’s ear. He responds, a mischievous twinkle in his eye and her bright-eyed smile makes Chloe’s heart melt. The little girl throws her arms around Lucifer’s neck and presses a kiss to his cheek before turning and bounding toward her bedroom, leaving the Devil staring after her in wide-eyed incomprehension, hand pressed to his cheek in shock.</p><p>Chloe's throat threatens to close with emotion as she realizes that the only other person to offer Lucifer a simple affectionate peck on the cheek like her daughter just gifted him was herself... at least since his Fall. She manages to keep her smile on her face, but really all she wants to do is track down Lucifer's entire celestial family and either scream at them, or turn them into feathery pulp.</p><p>She turns and gets Trixie settled into bed, leaving Lucifer to puzzle out his shock. Trixie must be more tired than Chloe thought, since she doesn't even last an entire chapter before she's lightly snoring. Chloe clicks off the lamp and looks up to find Lucifer's long silhouette leaning in the doorframe.</p><p>"I know I've said it before, Detective, but your offspring is truly unique." She can't make out his expression with his face in shadow, but his tone is soft. "I don't know what to make of it."</p><p>"What to make of what?" She exits the room, sliding the door shut quietly behind her and they move out onto her garden patio.</p><p>"Her... Perhaps just her, in general." He sighs and sinks onto the wicker loveseat, hands running distractedly through his hair. "Her acceptance of me-- affection, even! She reminds me so much of you sometimes... Do you think it's a genetic defect? Something in your miracle DNA, this... this tolerance of, of me?"</p><p>"I like to think it's just good judgment," She crosses the patio and sits next to him, pulling one of his hands from ruffling his hair and holding it between hers. "Trixie knows who her friends are, and who she can trust."</p><p>"I’m trying to be worthy of that trust, Detective." He pleads tentatively, "But I don't know if--" </p><p>"That's exactly what makes you worthy, Lucifer," she assures him, squeezing his hand gently. "The fact that you never stop trying to be better, that you think about things like this and take all of it to heart. That's just... <em>you</em>. It's who you are. We know that, we're just waiting for you to catch up." This last is said teasingly, and he chuffs a watery laugh, his free hand gripping the back of his neck tightly.</p><p>"Hey." She waits until he lifts his head enough to meet her eyes in the semidarkness, knowing his eyesight is sharper than hers, and he'll be able to read her expression. "I'm going to keep telling you until you believe it. I'm glad I wound up in your path, and I don't care how we got here. We're here now, we love you, and I wouldn't change having you here for anything."</p><p>He's quiet for a long time, and she wishes she could make out his expression. Finally, he gently pulls her into an embrace. As she relaxes into his warmth, his lips softly graze her hair. She feels a pleasant heat gather in her stomach as a kiss brushes the shell of her ear, his hot breath fanning past it as he whispers there, "Chloe, I love you so."</p><p>*</p><p>Link to explicit bonus chapter here: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27515281/chapters/68093320">https://archiveofourown.org/works/27515281/chapters/68093320</a></p><p>*</p><p>The next morning Lucifer wakes early to get a start on the promised breakfast, only to realize that he’s missing several key ingredients for the requested pancakes. He glances at the microwave clock, it’s still early—he has time to flit to the grocery and be back in time to make good on his promise to the Urchin. He briefly considers leaving a note, but reasons that he’ll back before anyone wakes. He throws on his jacket, steps out onto the back patio and unfurls his wings.</p><p>Half an hour later, he’s slipping into an empty alleyway with an armful of grocery bags, armed and ready to create a breakfast masterpiece for his adoptive family.</p><p>“Well, now, fancy meeting you here,” comes a voice, followed by a ringing pain to his head.</p><p>*</p><p>Chloe wakes alone, the sheets next to her smooth and cool. Lucifer’s phone hums quietly on the nightstand, the display lighting up with a new notification but he’s nowhere to be seen. She lifts her head muzzily and stretches, smiling to herself as a few pleasant twinges from last night’s activities make themselves known. She slips out of bed and into her pajamas, venturing downstairs. Lucifer isn’t there either, but he left his phone and overnight bag, so he can’t have gone far. She starts her coffee machine and checks Trixie before she retreats back upstairs to shower. Half an hour later she enters her kitchen, showered, dressed, and ready to face yet another day of no work. She pours herself a mug of coffee to her taste, then goes in to wake Trixie for school.</p><p>Her daughter erupts from her bed and excitedly bursts into the living area, where she stops short. “Where’s Lucifer, Mom?”</p><p>“I’m not sure, baby,” Chloe admits, determined <em>not</em> to be worried. “He must have needed to step out for something, but he left his phone here, so I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”</p><p>“But he was gonna make pancakes!” Trixie’s face crumples and suddenly the spread of supplies on the countertop makes sense to Chloe.</p><p>“Ahhh, that must be it.” She relaxes, feeling much more at ease now. “There’s stuff on the counter in the kitchen, I bet we didn’t have everything he needed and he went to get what we were missing.” She knows Lucifer wouldn’t let a little thing like lacking ingredients get in the way of fulfilling a promise, especially to Trixie. “C’mon though kiddo, you need to get ready for school, and we should probably plan on something else for breakfast in case he gets held up on his way back.”</p><p>She scrambles some eggs and sets a couple slices of toast on her daughter’s plate, and tries not to think about the minutes ticking by as Trixie shoots hopeful glances at both the front door and sliding glass door to the patio. Chloe puts on a show of unconcern as she walks Trixie to the bus stop and assures her that there’s no need to worry as she sends her off to school. She nearly melts in relief as she returns to the apartment to find an extremely disheveled Lucifer standing on her stoop.</p><p>“Lucifer!” She cries as she gets close enough to make out his condition. “What on Earth happened to you??”</p><p>His right eye is blackening and his shirt is torn, no <em>cut</em>, and there’s a sizeable bloodstain around it, trailing down his side. His hair is messed from its normal sleek styling, and his lip is split and still oozing a small trail of blood from the corner. He stands a bit hunched, as though he’s sustained injuries to his torso and being fully upright is painful. He gives her a small smile, and gives the hand holding the battered bags a small wave.</p><p>“Nothing to concern yourself over, Detective,” his words are a bit thick, possibly due to the mouth injury. “I left to get supplies for your breakfast and ran across a mugger as I was returning. Apparently, your effect on my invulnerability reaches even further than I thought.”</p><p>“Are you all right?” She quickly unlocks the door, relieving him of the bags and ushering him inside carefully. She sets the bags down immediately and helps him to the sofa. “I thought you were completely invulnerable again, even when you’re close to me? What <em>happened?</em> Let me see…”</p><p>She starts undoing the buttons of his shirt, and his hands catch hers, stilling them. His dark eyes meet hers, and her breath catches as she notes the broken capillaries in the right one, resulting in the white staining red. “I’m truly fine, Detective, see?” The fingers of his left hand pull the fabric of the cut apart, and though she can see the blood staining the shirt, the skin underneath is whole and healthy. “Healing is fully functional.”</p><p>Her hand brushes the healed skin underneath the long cut, then reaches of its own accord to gently touch the split lip. “What about this? Why is this still bleeding?</p><p>“I’m afraid I’ve no idea, Detective. Don’t worry, though, I sent that mugger on his way with the fear of my Father placed into him.” His tone is smug, and Chloe has no doubts that there’s a criminal in an alleyway somewhere blubbering about the Devil. “I’m sorry I’m late for breakfast, though, I had intended to return before you woke.”</p><p>“It’s okay, Lucifer, I’m sorry you’re hurt, but… at least we found out this way that you’re vulnerable again, rather than with you stepping into the line of fire once we’re back at work.” She leans in and hugs him, resting her chin on his shoulder and trying not to think about the cold weight settling in her chest. She feels the movement of his cheek as a small smile stretches his wounded lips, but she doesn't see that it doesn't light his eyes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. How Do We Bring Him Back?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Dan, I really have to say, I'm pleased with your conclusions here," Linda looks up from the sloppily-assembled notepad and smiles warmly at him. "You've obviously taken a lot of time and effort to look at your memories of your interactions very closely. And Dr. Selwyn says you've been participating very well during your sessions."</p><p>"Yeah, I, uh... I realized that you and Trixie had it right." He ducks his head in embarrassment at deferring to his ten-year-old daughter's judgment, but plows forward anyway. "He sure doesn't seem to be evil, even if he can be a <em>huge</em> dick. And I made a huge mistake in how I chose to handle that situation... I just don't know how to fix it."</p><p>"Well the first step in fixing any mistake is in admitting one was made, Dan, and it seems like you've taken that step. The next step is taking responsibility, then apologizing. That's often a difficult stage, because it involves going face-to-face with those you've wronged."</p><p>She watches as Dan's face pales at the idea of facing not only the Devil himself, but Chloe, who he nearly killed, and Ella, who could have been caught in the crossfire. And Trixie... again.</p><p>"After apologies, the next ‘official’ step is to offer a way to make up for the mistake, though as you said, that's going to be a tough one. But maybe if you're open to discussion, you can all come up with an acceptable solution together. The last step is often the hardest, though-- you have to actually <em>do</em> what you say you're going to do."</p><p>"Yeah... I think that's where I'm going to need the most help, I keep... falling back into these old habits, don't I?" </p><p>"Habits are hard to break, Dan," she agrees. "It takes work, dedication. I know you've got the will for it, and your family loves you. If you keep them in your heart as your moral compass, it will be harder to fall off track again." </p><p>"What do I do now?" He leans forward, his head resting in his hands. "Once they decide I'm not crazy, I'll get transferred to jail. I'm a cop, I won't last long in there." Linda had considered that as well, and doesn't have an answer for him. She's just opening her mouth to form a platitude when the visitation room door opens, causing both of them to startle. </p><p>"Daniel Espinoza?" A uniformed officer stands at the door with a sheaf of papers and a plastic bag.</p><p>"Uh. Yeah, that's me?" Dan stands, but doesn't approach the door. </p><p>"Your bail has been posted. Your psychiatrist has agreed that you're no longer a danger to yourself or others. Once you sign these, you're free to go."</p><p>"I'm… What?" Dan's jaw drops. "Who paid my bail? Where am I supposed to go? I've been in here for over a month, no way is my apartment still mine."</p><p>"Not my problem, buddy, you comin' or what?" Dan and Linda exchange looks, and she gestures him forward. </p><p>"Dan, why don't you go sign your papers and I'll go talk with Dr. Selwyn and see if I can get some answers?"</p><p>"Thanks, Linda," Dan breathes, and they go their separate ways. </p><p>Linda heads straight for Dr. Selwyn's office and is admitted right away. The man seems a little twitchier than she usually expects from a psychiatrist, but he welcomes her readily enough. </p><p>"It's good to meet you in person, Dr. Selwyn, thank you for seeing me on such short notice." She settles into the chair opposite his desk, and watches the man across from her. His eyes never stay still, always flitting from place to place, and he has at least 3 nervous tics that she's identified already. "I was just visiting with Dan Espinoza, and they came to tell us he's being released on bail, and that you'd signed off for him as no longer a danger to himself or others?"</p><p>"Yes, yes, that's right." He nods his head a shade too rapidly. "He's come a long way in the past few weeks and I feel that he no longer needs to be committed for safety reasons. He's not a flight risk, no reason at all that he shouldn't be released on bail if someone were to pay it."</p><p>"Do you know who posted his bail?" Linda probes gently, and doesn't miss the man's barely-suppressed flinch. </p><p>"It was a very tall fellow, dark hair and eyes, very imposing, er, intimidating almost."</p><p>"British accent?" Linda suggests, "Well-dressed?"</p><p>"Well-dressed, yes, but no accent. If anything, his speech was a bit flat. Like his eyes. Cold eyes, unnerving." He shudders and leans back into his chair, rubbing his arms as though he's just suffered a chill. </p><p>"Hm. All right," Linda can't place anyone that fits that particular description. Up until those final two markers she would have laid odds on Lucifer, especially with how twitchy the man is... but his accent is very distinct, and while his mannerisms may be cold at times, his eyes <em>never</em> are. If anything, they always burn with a fire, a heat that she's never seen quenched, even in his deepest despairing moments. "Well, I don't want to keep you. Thank you again, Doctor."</p><p>**************************</p><p>Chloe fusses at Lucifer to remove his jacket and shirt so she can make sure he doesn’t have any other wounds but he resists, proclaiming his well-being loudly until she throws her hands up in frustration.</p><p>“Fine!” she whirls away before she gives into the temptation to punch him in his <em>other</em> eye. “Did you have any plans for today, then?”</p><p>“Well,” he says slowly, “since I’m far too late to make breakfast for you and your daughter, I suppose I should probably go home and clean up.”</p><p>She sighs and looks back over at him, taking him in again. The suit he’s wearing is certainly ruined, and she's still concerned about the sheer amount of blood. She knows he won’t want to wear the one he wore yesterday… she smiles to herself, because she can already hear him complaining about the <em>walk of shame</em>. As if the man has ever known a moment of shame. “All right, I’ll go get my keys.” She feels his dark eyes watching her until she rounds the corner of the stairwell. A moment later, she comes back down with her keys and his phone in her hand. “I brought your phone, too—you know you should really—Lucifer?” Her sitting room is empty, and he’s nowhere to be found. “Lucifer?”</p><p>No answer.</p><p>
  <em>Okay, odd. Should I head to Lux, or give him some space?</em>
</p><p>She’d certainly feel better if he at least had his phone… but his flat has a landline so he wouldn’t be completely without communication. Why did he leave? Was he just embarrassed that a human mugger got the drop on him?</p><p><em>Wait… how did a human mugger get the drop on him?  Even with an armful of groceries, he’s more than a match for any human and the only times I’ve ever seen him get wounded are when he’s defending me. Did something more happen? </em> But he’d said it was a mugger, and Lucifer doesn’t lie. Maybe he was defending someone from a mugger.  That would be just like him, do something noble and refuse to tell anyone about it. She relaxes a little as that thought occurs to her, and fits within the scenario he provided. Once she has that settled in her mind, she decides to give him some distance, knowing he’ll heal faster without her around.</p><p>She putters around the apartment for the day, trying to convince herself that she doesn't miss Lucifer's colorful commentary. She tries not to think about that fluttery nervous feeling in her chest that reminds her of the faint, untraceable uneasiness she had felt the weekend she had inadvertently sent Lucifer back to Hell. She picks up her phone to text him several times, only remembering that he left it behind when it chimes in her back pocket. <em>Another odd thing in a day of odd things, ever since he got his phone, I rarely see</em> <em>him without it</em>. She pulls it from her pocket and flicks on the screen, entering the password this time to gain access. <em>("Carnal," he'd reminded her cheerfully, "with a capital 'C'!")</em> She finds over a dozen messages from Maze, all demanding to know where he is and what's going on.</p><p><em>That's weird</em>, she has time to think to herself before her door bursts open and the demon herself stalks in, Eve trailing along worriedly behind. </p><p>"Where is he, Decker?" Maze snarls, "What did you do this time??"</p><p>She gapes at her former roommate for a full half-minute before she flares right back. "What are you talking about, Maze? Lucifer's at Lux, and I haven't done <em>anything</em>."</p><p>"Like <em>Hell</em>," the demon hisses, and Eve reaches out a hand, resting it on her forearm. "He's not at Lux, we checked there first."</p><p>"Chloe..." Eve begins tentatively, "Maze always <em>knows</em> where Lucifer is, even though she's not technically sworn to his service anymore. She can't... sense him, hasn't been able to since this morning. We tracked his phone here."</p><p>"Yeah," Chloe holds up his phone exasperatedly. "He got mugged this morning during a grocery run, and looked terrible when he finally made it back here. He said he was going back to Lux to clean up, and left his phone here."</p><p><em>"Mugged?"</em> Maze barks a humorless laugh. "No <em>way</em> would a mugger stand a chance against Lucifer. Even if you were right next to him, Decker. Pull the other one."</p><p>"That's what he told me, Maze, and you know he doesn't... lie." Suddenly yesterday's story and his worries click together and don't seem so far-fetched. <em>"Shit."</em>  The black eye, the split lip. A flash of memory, Lucifer sitting at his piano with very similar injuries. <em>"Just a little, you know, squabble with my bro. Nothing serious."</em></p><p>"What, Decker?"</p><p>"I... yesterday, we had a little meet-and-greet with Arael and Azrael. He told us all the real story about his Fall, and his arrival and time in Hell. He... told us about Michael and what he did in the Garden."</p><p>"And what does that sneaky bastard have to do with-- oh, <em>fuck</em>." Maze's face goes slack as she works out what Chloe apparently just put together. </p><p>"Michael?" Eve looks more than a little frightened. "Michael's here?"</p><p>"Yeah, I think he is," Chloe sucks in a deep breath and holds it against the expanding fear in her chest. "Maze, if you can't sense Lucifer... what did Michael do to him??"  Lucifer's phone chimes several times in her hand, and she glances down at it, seeing a text from Linda that makes her go pale.</p><p>"Chloe, are you okay?" Eve asks urgently.</p><p>"Uh... Linda says Dan's been released from the psychiatric hospital and is now out on bail. He's with her, she was there visiting him when the officer came to release him." She pulls in a deep breath. "If Michael is here... we're gonna need help. We need to go talk to Amenadiel."</p><p>Maze flips her knives idly in her fingers as she paces the floor of the living room while Chloe dials Linda to get more details.</p><p>"Lucifer? Did you bail Dan out??" Linda's voice answers quietly, but Chloe can hear the concern in her voice. </p><p>"Linda, it's Chloe. Lucifer left his phone here, and we may have a bigger problem. Is Amenadiel at your place?"</p><p>"He was when I left a couple hours ago, why?"</p><p>"I... think we need to have a meeting. Can I meet you at your place with Maze &amp; Eve?"</p><p>"What about Dan?"</p><p>"Bring him, I guess." Chloe sighs. "At least this time he's unarmed."</p><p>"For what it's worth, I think he's rounded the corner, though being confronted with Amenadiel, Maze, and Eve may be a bit much right out of the gate..."</p><p>"Sink or swim, Linda, right?" She hears the other woman's sigh resonate over the line.</p><p>"I'll try to prepare him on the drive home."</p><p>********************</p><p>“Well now, fancy meeting you here.”</p><p>The voice is all-too-familiar, and one of several reasons he’s adopted the charming accent that he calls his own. Lucifer turns in time to avoid the worst of the strike, but still manages to take a ringing blow to his ear as he whirls away to face his attacker. His twin stands a wingspan away, his matte-black wings swallowing the early morning light filtering into the cluttered alleyway. The right wing is noticeably ragged-looking, with a dramatic disfiguring scar where his wound had been, and Michael holds that shoulder markedly higher than the other, giving him a bit of a hunchbacked appearance.</p><p>“Oooh, Michael, Adam really did a number on your wing, didn’t he?” Lucifer taunts, dropping his supplies where he won’t accidentally be tripped by them. “Why hasn't that healed, brother? Mine took a couple millennia to heal up properly, but that was without access to a brother with healing talents, and, well, that’s just Hell, you know. They’ve been right as rain since—barring those five or six years where I was cutting them off every time they sprouted back like a blasted weed.  Have you tried that? Bit of a wing reboot, cutting them off and re-growing a new pair?”</p><p>“You always did talk too much, Samael,” Michael snaps. “That’s why your rebellion never would have gotten off the ground—you’re too busy talking to get anything done.”</p><p>“I don’t go by that name anymore, as you well know, brother.” He moves into the center of the alley, making sure he’ll have room to move when he needs to. “While we’re speaking though, I’d <em>love</em> to hear how much you’ve gotten done since you dropped me into Hell like a bloody penny into a wishing well. Aside from spreading those nasty little lies about me of course, I managed to find out about those all on my own. I suppose that doesn’t really count as talking, though?  Whispering, perhaps, into the right ears. Just your style.”</p><p>“Yes, I’ve found that a few, well-placed words work far better than your endless torrent of drivel.” Michael sneers, taking a few steps closer, his wings flaring into a threat posture.</p><p>“Aha, and I’m sure your talent of weighting your words with the underlying fears of your listeners has absolutely nothing to do with that.” Lucifer barks a dry laugh. “Go on then, Michael, what are you doing here?  Earth is hardly your favorite stomping ground, let alone this dreary Los Angeles alleyway. What is it you want?”</p><p>“That’s easy, <em>Samael,”</em> the name twists on his lips like a knife and Lucifer grits his teeth to repress the instinctive reaction to it. “I want the same as I wanted all those millennia ago:  You, in Hell. I warned you not to leave there.”</p><p>“You did, I remember it quite well.” He agrees flippantly, watching his brother carefully for signs of an oncoming charge. “But your specific stipulation was that I not come back to the Silver City. I’m quite happy to remain here on Earth, now that dear old Dad says I don’t need to be in Hell anymore. It was <em>His</em> Plan that my banishment wasn’t to be permanent, not <em>mine.</em>”</p><p>“And yet, just recently you met with Arael <em>and</em> Azrael, who’ve started to talk about the possibility of you returning to the Silver City.” Michael hisses, and the two brothers start to circle one another.</p><p>“If that’s what they’re saying, then they’re saying it <em>wrong</em>.” Lucifer spits, carefully maintaining his distance from his volatile brother. “Though it wouldn’t surprise me at all if you’ve simply heard what you want to hear so you can spin it properly to those eagerly listening ears you dribble your words and poisons into.”</p><p><em>“Poison</em> was never in my job description, Samael, that was <em>all</em> yours.”</p><p>“Yes, I recall. It’s why I changed my name, you see. I’m no longer Dad’s <em>anything</em>, let alone His <em>venom.”</em> He blocks the first left-handed strike Michael aims for him, spinning nimbly out of range of the next before facing him again.</p><p>“You are His <em>blindness, Samael,</em> and it’s time that He is cured of you!” Suddenly Michael has his sword in hand and is charging him and he can’t move out of the way quickly enough. He dances back and Michael lands a backhanded slash, opening a 10-inch gash along his ribs that, though fairly shallow, immediately starts gushing blood down his left side.</p><p>“Always with the blade, Michael,” Lucifer tuts, pressing his left hand against the cut. Michael swings again and this time Lucifer darts forward, landing a heavy-handed punch to his right eye, then spinning to follow with his left elbow to the face, resulting in a fountain of blood from his brother’s lips. Michael spits, then grins, his teeth shining with blood as the two brothers continue their circling. “Really, are you <em>that</em> frightened of me?”</p><p>Michael charges him with a roar, and Lucifer barks a feral laugh as his brother blows straight past him in his rage, swinging around with sword held high just as a grocery employee opens the side door, no doubt sent to check on the disturbance.</p><p>“Oi, what are you guys doin’ out he-ooooooooly shit, are those <em>wings?? </em>Is that a <em>sword</em>??” The hapless man freezes in place and Michael, keyed for approaching threats, swings the sword in a deadly arc toward him.</p><p>“Michael, <em>NO!”</em> Lucifer shouts, and unfurls his own wings at last, stretching between the unarmed human and the oncoming sword.</p><p>Michael’s blade cleaves the radius and ulna of Lucifer’s left wing, and his agonized cry unfreezes the poor employee, who darts back through the doorway and locks it, muttering to himself, “I never saw nothing. T’weren’t nothin’ out there.”</p><p>Michael crows in victory as he follows through on his downward strike, burying the blade viciously into Lucifer’s left shoulder. The celestial weapon slices and burns like no other metal—not even hell-forged daggers can injure an angel like celestial steel, and the blood loss is heavy and rapid. He sinks to his knees as Michael braces his booted foot against Lucifer’s shoulder to cruelly twist the blade free of his collarbone, kicking him backward onto the stinking pavement as the blade finally wrenches free with a deep cracking noise.</p><p>“You would have killed that human, brother,” Lucifer grates out, his right hand trying to staunch the flow of blood from his shoulder. “For nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. What do you think Father would have said about that?”</p><p>“Lucky for me, I don’t have to worry about that,” The Sword of God taunts. “As if I would ever <em>fear</em> you… you just threw away your chance at besting me in battle… to save a <em>human</em>. I would have thought being immersed in Hell would make you hate them, but somehow, it’s only made you <em>softer.” </em>He snorts in disgust, placing his sword’s tip gently under his chin, right along the scar from last time. “And now that I know you have a cell down there of your very own, the only decision I need to make right now is… do I take you there myself, or do I simply kill you and save myself the trip?”</p><p>************************</p><p>"Linda, I was thinking about where to put the crib in the... oh. Hello, Dan." Amenadiel stops halfway down the stairs when he notices they have company. He gentles his voice further and continues carefully, "I didn't know you were coming. How are you feeling?" </p><p>"I'm, uh... okay, I guess." Dan's wearing the same outfit he'd been wearing when he went to shoot Lucifer, since it was what the hospital had of his belongings. "I've had a lot of time to think and, uh, process things. So, um... Angel, huh?" His voice squeaks a little on the last words, and Amenadiel chuckles softly.</p><p>"Yes, Dan, I'm an almost fully-functioning angel, and yes, Lucifer <em>is</em> truly my brother." </p><p>"And, uh, Charlotte was your mother?"</p><p>"Ah," A pained look crosses Amenadiel's face. "You <em>have</em> had some time to think it through, haven't you?"</p><p>Dan barks a laugh that only sounds slightly hysterical. "You could say that. Can you... did I--? Just... what??"</p><p>"Charlotte's story is... complicated. Charlotte Richards was killed, and my Mom's essence inhabited her body when you first met her, yes. But then later Mom couldn't be contained by mere mortal flesh, and Lucifer convinced her to leave this universe for an empty one... to start fresh, away from our Father rather than burn through her vessel and destroy a huge part of this world. Once Mom left, Charlotte's soul was pulled back from Hell onto the beach at the Santa Monica Pier and she had a chance to earn her redemption."</p><p>"You told me. When you came back, you told me she's in Heaven?"</p><p>"She is, Dan. I took her there myself. She's safe, she didn't go back to Hell, she redeemed herself. The first soul ever to do so <em>after</em> having gone to Hell."</p><p>A small sob breaks from Dan, and he sinks into the chair behind him. Linda and Amenadiel share a look, and she goes to heat some water for tea. Amenadiel slowly crosses the room, sitting near enough to talk comfortably, but far enough away to give Dan a sense of space. </p><p>"It's a lot to take in, I know. Charlotte had a hard time as well, and Linda has told me about her struggles."</p><p>"Charlotte knew?  About all of this?"</p><p>"Yes... well. Not at first, no. She came back knowing she'd been in Hell, but she felt like she was going crazy, with her missing time where Mom had been here and she had been in Hell. So... I disregarded Linda and Lucifer's advice, and told her the truth."</p><p>"And she had a hard time."</p><p>"That's... putting it lightly. She was ready to have herself committed until I talked Luci into showing her his wings to prove she wasn't crazy."</p><p>"And... and she just accepted that even though he was the Devil, he wasn't... isn't..."</p><p>"Evil?" Amenadiel suggests quietly, and Dan glances after Linda, his eyes widening. "She did, actually. He’d already been working with her to help her turn her life around <em>before </em>she believed him. I made that mistake too, Dan."</p><p>"You... you thought he was evil?"</p><p>"For eons. My job was to return him to Hell every time he would try to escape, every time he would try to snatch a little sunlight or happiness for himself." Amenadiel's expressive eyes shine with regret. "I let myself believe it, because it was easier to keep hauling my brother back to that horrible place if he truly was evil, if he really did deserve to be locked away."</p><p>"What-- what changed your mind, man?"</p><p>"Time," the angel admits candidly. "And making my own mistakes. And I have made many, Dan. I went so far as to resurrect a hellbound soul and contract him to kill my brother, to send him back to Hell after I felt I had been tricked into a deal to let him stay here on Earth. That soul killed several humans before he was sent back to Hell, and that weight lays heavily on me. It went a long way to opening my eyes to the true nature of my brother. I let myself truly get to know him. He’s not evil… he’s only been assigned the job of punishing those that <em>are.</em>"</p><p>“How does—”</p><p>The door bursts open and Maze strides in, Eve and Chloe following in her wake. Dan freezes in place, and even he can’t decide if it’s the demon that’s freezing him, or the look of fury on his ex-wife’s face. He hasn’t seen her since the shooting about a month ago, but she looks remarkably healed. Maze, despite his new knowledge of what she is, doesn’t strike him any differently. He has a flash of realization that, like Lucifer, she’s never bothered trying to hide what she really is, and that realization brings him to the fact that he is, in fact, terrified of Chloe in this moment.</p><p>“Dan, we don’t have time for your shit right now, so if you’re going to cause any problems here, I swear that I will handcuff you to a radiator somewhere until we get our current crisis sorted out.”</p><p>“Chloe, I—I’m sorry. I <em>never</em> meant to hurt you, and… and I should have done more research before I… before I did that. I know I hurt—”</p><p>“I just said we don’t have time for your shit, Dan, we’ll deal with it later.” She turns away from him without another thought, and despite his guilt, he feels a slight relief that <em>he’s</em> not the biggest problem they’re dealing with right now.</p><p>“Amenadiel, we think Lucifer’s in trouble.”</p><p>“What kind of trouble?” the angel rumbles cautiously, as Linda enters the room with mugs of tea for everyone.</p><p>“I can’t sense him,” Maze blurts out. “Last time that happened, it was when he went to Hell without me.”</p><p>Amenadiel glances at Chloe, who shakes her head. “Best I can tell, he left my place this morning for a grocery run for pancake ingredients. He came back several hours later, looking like he’d been in a serious fight. Black eye, split lip, and a bloody cut in his shirt… but no wound where the fabric was cut. He told me that his vulnerability was back, and that the range must be greater than it was before because he’d been mugged leaving the store… but he still had the bags of groceries, and he wouldn’t let me take off his jacket or shirt to look for other wounds.”</p><p>“Where is he now?”</p><p>“He <em>said </em>he was going back to Lux to clean up and change. He left his phone at my apartment, and Maze tracked it there when she couldn’t sense him…”</p><p>“He wasn’t at Lux when we stopped there, we thought we’d check there first,” Eve explains.</p><p>“Lucifer told us the story of his Fall, and his time in Hell yesterday, and he did seem a little worried that if, um, God was going to start introducing the idea of lifting his ban from Heaven that we might start seeing some less than happy siblings popping down. He specifically mentioned that Michael might be a problem, and that he’d likely try to pass himself off as Lucifer.”  Chloe’s words are clipped, frustrated. “I didn’t listen to him. I didn’t listen, and I didn’t… I didn’t <em>check</em> when he came back with that story, I didn’t <em>check</em> to see if it was really him or not, and now we don’t know where he is…”</p><p>“Lucifer said Michael can pass himself off as Lucifer?” Linda asks cautiously.</p><p>“He’s done it before, in the Garden,” Eve murmurs quietly. “Lucifer told me after he figured it out, before Adam and I got sent away. He made me think he was Lucifer, and… tricked me.” Maze wraps her arm protectively around Eve’s shoulders and glares at the room in general. Chloe spares a bare moment of raw sympathy for this ancient, naïve woman… knowing that Michael likely had a similar plan in store for her, if it had really been him this morning and <em>not</em> Lucifer.</p><p>“So, Michael is Lucifer’s twin… does he have an accent like Lucifer’s?”</p><p>“He could,” Amenadiel supplies, “But he wouldn’t have to. He typically doesn’t, but if he’s trying to pass himself off as Luci, he would have no trouble adopting his accent. Why, Linda?”</p><p>“Someone posted Dan’s bail,” she says simply, “and the psychiatrist described someone that sounds remarkably like Lucifer, except no accent, and cold eyes.”</p><p>“That could easily be Michael,” Amenadiel confirms. “Why would he bail out Dan, though?” All eyes turn to the former Detective, who has been sitting quietly just trying to keep up.</p><p>“I haven’t seen anybody that looks like Lucifer since… since that night, I <em>swear</em>.” He holds his hands up, palms out. “I have no idea why he’d get me out of there.”</p><p>“Michael is a strategist, Dan, if he bailed you out, he has a plan for you.” Amenadiel regards his friend for a long moment. “Perhaps it would be best if you stayed near me until we figure out just what is going on here?”</p><p>“I, uh… I don’t have anywhere to go, except to my parents’ place, so… I’m open, I guess.”</p><p>“Okay, so… how do we flush out whether or not this is Michael?” Linda queries the room.</p><p>“Easy,” Chloe says, “We ask for wings. Michael’s wings are black, Lucifer’s are white.”</p><p>“Yeah…” Maze grumbles, “But that doesn’t get us intel on what his plan is, <em>or</em> what he’s done with Lucifer.”</p><p>Everyone is silent as they consider their options.</p><p>“He has to be in Hell,” Chloe says quietly, and all eyes turn to her. “Right? If Maze can’t sense him <em>here</em>, and we know Michael doesn’t want him in Heaven, then he <em>has</em> to be in Hell.”</p><p>“Would Maze feel him if he were dead?” Five sets of eyes turn to Dan, who can barely believe he let those words escape. “I mean, uh… you said you can’t sense him if he’s in Hell and you’re here. What would it feel like if he were… not… alive? If something made him bleed, obviously <em>something</em> could kill him…” He stops talking, because he’s just noticed how pale Chloe’s become.</p><p>“Maze?” Linda prompts finally, when the answer doesn’t seem to be forthcoming. “Can you sense him when he’s dead?”</p><p>“I couldn’t sense him that time to he went to Hell for that antidote for Chloe,” Maze admits slowly. “But, I don’t know what it would feel like if he were <em>really </em>dead, like…”</p><p>“Like Uriel,” Amenadiel finishes solemnly. “So… our options so far are either, 1. Lucifer is acting oddly but is still himself, 2. Lucifer has been kidnapped and is being hidden somewhere while Michael plays out whatever his plan is, or 3. Michael has killed Lucifer and is attempting to do <em>something </em>by pretending to be him. Am I missing any possibilities?</p><p>“Probably,” Maze shrugs, “but I think those are our three most likely scenarios.”</p><p>“Okay, let’s think about this, then,” Chloe stands up and starts to pace, unable to keep still. “If Michael took him to Hell, what could possibly keep him from just coming back? He’s not bound by any promises anymore, and God <em>told</em> me he didn’t have to be there anymore. Lucifer <em>knows</em> that.”</p><p><em>“God</em> told you?” Dan echoes blankly.</p><p><em>“Later, Dan.</em> Not the time<em>”</em> Chloe growls, and keeps pacing. “What could keep Lucifer away if he didn’t go there willingly?”</p><p>“I can think of a couple things, off the top of my head,” Maze volunteers. “Michael could have broken or cut off his wings again, or he could have found his loop and tossed him inside it. Or both, I guess.”</p><p>Chloe’s heart freezes at the mention of Lucifer’s loop. He’d told her that he had one, but she’d never scraped up the courage to ask what was in it. “Maze, if you go to Hell, would you be able to tell if Lucifer was here, and find him?”</p><p>“Easy. Once we’re on the same plane, my locator sense fires right up again. I’d find him in no time, even if he was in a loop that wasn’t his.”</p><p>“Okay, next question then…” Chloe sucks in a deep breath. “If… if he’s. If Michael ki-killed him… how do we bring him back?”</p><p>The eyes turn to Amenadiel now, and he shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “If Michael killed Luci with his sword, or any other celestial weapon, we might be able to get him back <em>if</em> we can locate his body here on Earth and bond his soul with it again.”</p><p>“What if Michael destroyed the body?” Eve asks quietly.</p><p>“If the vessel is destroyed, then the soul cannot return to the Earthly plane. Discorporated souls can only exist in Heaven or Hell, not Earth.” Amenadiel’s tone is detached, but Chloe stifles a sob. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think Michael would take the chance of killing Lucifer. If Father has already lifted his ban, and Michael kills Lucifer, it’s impossible to tell if his soul would go to Heaven or Hell. Before, when he was banned, it definitely would have been Hell, but if the ban is lifted… it would depend on him. Michael doesn’t want him in Heaven, so I think the chance of killing him would have been too great. Far easier to cripple him and throw him in Hell.”</p><p>Chloe’s face pales further as she recalls Lucifer’s emotionless recitation of what had happened to him the <em>first</em> time he’d been thrown into Hell, and she fights back another sob.</p><p>“Can you please check? Can you see if he’s there? If Maze can sense him?” Chloe tries not to beg, but it’s a near thing.</p><p>“Maze, if you can sense him once you’re there, how will you know if he was brought there alive or if he was…?” Linda’s eyes are wide, and nearly as watery as Chloe’s own.</p><p>“Easy, remove him from the loop. Discorporated souls don’t keep their integrity outside their loops, they don’t have mass.”</p><p>“And if he’s been crippled?” Chloe asks. “He told us yesterday that it took over a thousand years for his wings to heal when he was cast down.” She takes a little vindication in the faint lightening of Amenadiel’s face at that little bit of knowledge.</p><p>“I can carry him out if broken wings are all that’s keeping him there.” Amenadiel assures her.</p><p>“How sure <em>are</em> we that Lucifer’s not just here and acting strangely?” Linda asks the room at large, and Maze answers immediately.</p><p>“Pretty damn sure.” She flicks her knives slowly. “I’ve never known him to be able to block my tracking ability, and the <em>only</em> times I haven’t felt him have been when he’s been in Hell and I’ve been on Earth. Or vice versa, in the past when he took his little vacations without me. And believe me, there have been loads of times when I would have <em>loved</em> to block him. Are we doing this or what?” Maze looks at Amenadiel, who nods.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. I Don't Think He's Okay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How can he not be here?” They’ve been gliding over the corridors of Hell for what feels like decades, hoping Maze will catch a sense of Lucifer with no luck. There’s no scent, no sense, not even a rumor that the former king is in residence. They’re looking for the chamber that houses his loop now, just to make sure before they return to Earth empty-handed. “We know Michael didn’t want him in Heaven, you can’t sense him on Earth, where else could he be?”</p><p>“There, that’s where his chamber is,” Maze points him, and Amenadiel lands outside the door.</p><p>“It looks like the elevator doors at the penthouse,” Amenadiel observes. “Do we go in?”</p><p>“We can,” Maze shrugs, resting her hand against the door. “But it’s empty, it’ll just be a frozen set.”</p><p>“Do you know what’s inside?” Amenadiel finds himself curious about what would haunt his brother’s loop.</p><p>“Right now, nothing. Unoccupied loops are just… empty. We could try to find the demons that played the other roles, but that would just waste time, they’ve been reassigned for ages now.”</p><p>“And you’re sure that he’s not merely visiting one of the other loops here?”</p><p>Mazikeen’s glare is icy. “He’s. Not. Here. If he were anywhere on this plane, I would <em>feel him.</em>”</p><p>“We should go in. What if you simply can’t feel him because Michael killed him?”</p><p>Maze sighs, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “If Michael killed him, he’d be <em>in his loop</em>, and it wouldn’t be dormant. This loop is dormant, but by all means, go right in.” She pushes past the outer door and presses her palm against the elevator doors just inside. They open with a chime to Lucifer’s penthouse, the piano in pride of place immediately in front of them. Everything is as it always appears, but it’s empty. Azrael’s blade gleams on the floor, wet with blood. Amenadiel stares at it, a sick feeling in his stomach.</p><p>“Is that really—?”</p><p>“It’s not the real blade. If it was, it would have obliterated the demon that was getting stabbed. Not very efficient for personnel. Or morale.”</p><p>“Demon morale is a problem?”</p><p>“Not usually, no. Which is why the weapons aren’t real. Hard to populate a loop that decimates your working class.”</p><p>“Okay, you were right, he’s obviously not here.” Amenadiel sighs heavily. “We need to go back and re-evaluate the possibilities.”</p><p>“Chloe’s going to want you to check Heaven.” Maze looks at him thoughtfully. “And we’re going to need to find out what Michael’s plan is.”</p><p>“Time for another celestial planning session, then,” Amenadiel offers as they exit the dormant loop, and Maze climbs into his arms.</p><p>********************</p><p>“Oh, really?  You want to kill me <em>now?” </em>Lucifer scoffs, but the show is somewhat less than effective with rivulets of blood gushing between his fingers. “What stopped you from killing me back at the beginning? Surely you wanted to.”</p><p>“Oh, I did want to,” Michael agrees calmly, the words falling easily from his lips. “But Father commanded me to see that you made it to Hell, and I knew that if I killed you then, there was a chance you might not make it there. You certainly didn’t feel guilty for anything back then.”</p><p>“Perhaps because I hadn’t done anything wrong?” Lucifer suggests dryly. “That’s typically a precursor for guilt, you know. Except for psychopaths like yourself, of course. Always the overachiever, aren’t you?”</p><p>“Being the dutiful son involves some sacrifices,” He digs the sword tip under his chin a little deeper, and Lucifer sucks a pained breath through his teeth. His left wing and arm are useless now, broken beyond use. He could use his right wing to sweep Michael’s feet from under him, but with the sword at his throat he’s looking at certain decapitation if he’s lucky, or a slower bleed out as his arteries are severed when Michael falls. “Besides all that, it was worth not killing you to enjoy the screams as you fell. Even wounded as I was, I was still able to glide long enough to listen until you couldn’t scream anymore.”</p><p>“Always glad to provide some entertainment,” Lucifer grits out. His mind is going fuzzy, and a distant part of him notices the very large pool of blood surrounding him. <em>Damn sword must have hit an artery anyway,</em> he curses to himself. Michael won’t have to do anything more to kill him, only keep yammering away. “Well, lovely as it’s been catching up with you, now we’ve established that you’ve no need to worry about having me back in Heaven, would you mind being on your way so I can do something about this little situation you’ve landed me in?”</p><p>“Oh, <em>brother</em>, I’m not <em>done</em>.” Michael’s dark laughter sends a chill down Lucifer’s spine that has nothing to do with his massive blood loss. “I’m going to utterly destroy your life here. It’s not enough to merely kill you now, no. I need to make sure that your guilt is so heavy you’ll never be able to free yourself from that lovely little cell down there. I know you’ve been trying to find a way to help that crooked cop redeem himself… so I’ve got a plan for him—I’m going to bail him out of his little psych ward, then frame him for your murder. The guilt of putting his family through so much shame and anguish should be enough to tip his scales. Then your <em>lovely Detective</em> and her daughter—”</p><p>“You won’t harm them, Michael,” Lucifer makes to lunge forward and Michael digs his blade in deeper, cutting off his words with a bloody gurgling sound. He slumps back against the wall of the building, feeling the blood slithering thickly down his throat and airway.</p><p>“Ah, don’t you worry your little horns about them. I fully intend to find out exactly what’s so very special about them that they’ve captivated you, <em>before</em> I make them regret ever inviting you into their lives.” Michael’s voice is soft and utterly deranged. Lucifer feels what little strength he has left leaving him with his lifeblood.</p><p><em>Chloe knows about Michael, </em>he thinks to himself muzzily. <em>She knows to check if I’m acting strangely. I hope… I don’t think she’ll blame me for this… She’s clever, she’ll know to ask Amenadiel for help handling him.</em></p><p>He tries to send a prayer to Amenadiel, but his hands refuse to move. <em>Too late, too late, stupid Devil.</em> A burst of memory flares to vivid life in his mind’s eye as his vision starts to dim, an image from just a few weeks ago, as he’d been trying to convince her that having him in her life was simply too dangerous.</p><p><em>“What others do to manipulate you</em><em>is <strong>not your fault.</strong></em><strong>” </strong>His Detective had been sitting close to him, her head resting on his shoulder. He feels the warmth of the conviction those words were spoken with envelop him.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, Chloe. I love you so. I’ll miss you.</em>
</p><p>*******************</p><p>Michael waits until he hears his brother’s stuttering heartbeat stop entirely, his fleeting feeling of triumph immediately lapsing into the familiar emptiness he carries within him at all times. How ironic that his twin would be the master of desires, when it was always <em>Michael</em> that had wanted everything. Samael had always only ever sought companionship and acceptance, new knowledge and experiences and everyone had <em>loved </em>him. It was <em>Michael</em> that had longed for power and respect, that knew that <em>fear</em> was the way to obtain those things and hold them indefinitely. But no one had loved Michael. Love was for the weak, and Michael <em>refuses</em> to be weak.</p><p>So, he would slip into the life of his brother before he destroyed it. He would walk in the Devil’s red-soled shoes, and see what his life looks like from the inside. And when the time is right, he’ll burn it all down.</p><p>He transports the body to the place where Samael had initially buried their brother Uriel. The hole is already dug, and it’s a quiet enough place that Michael can hack off his brother’s wings without being disturbed so that he can take his clothing to perpetuate the ruse of being attacked. He can’t wait long enough for his facial wounds to heal before he heads back to the little apartment where the woman and her daughter anxiously await the return of their soft Devil.</p><p>He tosses the gleaming wings into the hole first, ignoring the pang of envy that manifests every time he glimpses them. He unceremoniously strips his brother’s body and dons the bloody clothing, grimacing at the cooling stickiness of the blood-soaked cloth. Fortunately, the jacket is black and doesn’t show much staining as long as he stays out of direct light. He can hide the worst of the blood from the shoulder wound by keeping the jacket on, and he can claim angelic healing for the other cuts in the cloth. The human won’t know what’s possible and what isn’t. After he’s clothed, he kicks the body into the empty grave, ignoring the dull thump and muted crackling of the feathers as they cushion the landing. He calls on some of his Power to shove the mound of packed dirt into the hole, not bothering to smooth it over.</p><p>
  <em>He certainly doesn’t deserve a proper burial, but it wouldn’t do to have a human stumble over the body, or the wings.</em>
</p><p>“Hello, Detective,” he purrs quietly, affecting his brother’s smooth accent. “Oh, this is nothing to worry about, darling, you know I’ve had worse.” He snickers, and his eyes are full of darkness. “You’re not going to know what’s hit you.”</p><p>********************</p><p>Ella makes it to the scene early, no one here but a couple of uniformed officers cordoning off the area. She glances around the alley, but doesn’t see a body, just an enormous pool of blood. Martinez catches her searching gaze and explains.</p><p>“No body, Lopez.” He shrugs. “Employee came out this morning to check a disturbance out here, says he saw two guys fighting, and one of them had a <em>sword</em>. He wasn’t even gonna report it, but the manager didn’t believe him and came out and found <em>that</em>.” He nods toward the congealing puddle. “It’s all yours.”</p><p>“Thanks, Martinez.” Ella approaches with camera in hand and evidence markers ready for placement. “We’re gonna need to be on the lookout for a body, there’s no way whoever this puddle came from made it out alive.” She sets a marker down next to a smeared footprint and takes several photographs before moving on to the next, and the next before she gets to primary reservoir. She collects her samples and takes more photographs before she spots it, almost completely covered in a crust of drying blood. A slight glimmer out of the corner of her eye, barely twitching in the early morning breeze barreling through the alley. A feather. Its glow is dimmed by the congealed blood clinging to the vanes, but she’s seen this before, more than once—and recently. She photographs and bags the feather, then carefully catalogues the rest of the scene, taking two extra sweeps to make certain nothing gets missed. She looks at the bag that holds the feather again, and steps away from the scene to make a call.</p><p>*********************</p><p>Maze and Amenadiel have only just left when Chloe’s phone rings stridently. She jumps, sharing glances with Eve and Linda as she fumbles to answer.</p><p>“Ella, hi,” She breathes into the handset. “Now isn’t really a—’</p><p>“Where’s Lucifer?” Ella breaks in, without her characteristic buoyancy, and for a moment Chloe can’t answer. The words get stuck in her throat and all she can emit is a small strangled sound. “Chloe? Where <em>is</em> he??”</p><p>“We… we don’t know, we’re trying to find out.” She croaks, hating how tenuous her voice sounds. “Why?”</p><p>“Because… Decker, I’ve got an enormous puddle of blood here with no body, and I found what I’m pretty sure is one of Lucifer’s feathers stuck in it.” Ella swallows, and her voice shakes as she continues. “Chloe… if it’s Lucifer’s blood… I don’t think he’s okay. Even for an angel, this is <em>massive</em> blood loss.”</p><p>Chloe can feel the blood draining from her face as Ella continues to speak, but the words just wash over her. She distantly feels Linda’s arm come around her waist in support, but her words don’t have any meaning either. Chloe makes a mental grab for the ball of light fluttering in her chest, grasping it tightly in her mind as she feels it embrace her and soothe her fears. It's Lucifer's light, it <em>feels</em> like him. If he was truly gone, forever out of reach, surely she would know. She pulls in shallow breath after shallow breath. Eventually, Linda pries the phone from Chloe’s hand and speaks with Ella, filling her in on Lucifer’s twin and their suspicions.</p><p>“Ella, if you’re sure that feather is Lucifer’s—”</p><p>“I’m pretty sure, I’ve seen them twice now—all over the loft, and then again when Lucifer whipped them out when Dan was waving his gun around. This feather looks just like them. I know they weren’t able to get any conclusive DNA on the blood from the loft, but I can run this and see if I get anything similar to verify.”</p><p>“Thanks Ella, can you—”</p><p>The sound of wingbeats and a heated, sulfur-laden breeze wafts in from the patio as Maze and Amenadiel enter.</p><p>“He’s not in Hell,” Maze announces loudly and Chloe’s head whips toward them, another pulse of fear shooting through her. Dan’s jaw drops open, and Eve lets out a squeak.</p><p>“Was that Maze?” Ella’s voice comes over the phone.</p><p>“Uh, yes. Amenadiel and Maze just came back from checking to see if Lucifer was in Hell. He’s not there.” Linda’s eyes flicker between the angel and demon. “Ella’s on the line, she says she has a massive puddle of blood, and she found a feather stuck in it that very closely resembles Lucifer’s.”</p><p>“Shit,” Maze spits. “We’re looking for a body, then?”</p><p>Chloe bites her lip and fights against the surge of panic threatening to overwhelm her. <em>Okay, no need to panic. We can get him back. He’s been dead before and came back… this is only the first time you’re </em>aware <em>of it. If he's not on Earth or in Hell, then he </em>must<em> be in Heaven. </em> “Would he bury him? Burn him?”</p><p>“Lucifer’s body wouldn’t burn with normal flames. Smiting it would take too much energy, draw too much attention. If Michael killed him, he’s probably buried him, or hidden him somewhere.”</p><p>The silence in the room is deafening.</p><p>“Okay.” Chloe’s eyes snap to Amenadiel. “Can you go to Heaven, and let Lucifer know we’re working on getting him back? Maybe he knows where Michael hid his body?”</p><p>“That’s a reasonable thought, Chloe. It can’t hurt to ask him.”</p><p>“Ella, you’ll let us know if that blood matches what you found at the loft?”</p><p>“Will do, Linda. And you’ll let me know if you hear from Lucifer in the meantime?” Ella continues hopefully, “The way you guys are talking, it sounds like we’re getting him back.  We’re getting him back, <em>right??</em>”</p><p>“That’s the goal, Ella. Talk soon.” Linda hangs up the phone, handing it back to Chloe, who accepts it automatically. Amenadiel turns and moves back out to the patio for his journey to Heaven, and Dan approaches Chloe tentatively. </p><p>"Chlo'?" He reaches out to touch her arm when she doesn't respond and she pulls away reflexively. He jumps back, hands up in apology. "Sorry, sorry! I just... can we talk?"</p><p>"Dan, I really can't--" </p><p>"I know, there's a ton going on right now, but... while we're waiting?  Is there anything else we can really do right now? I know you're pissed at me, and you've got a really good reason to be, but... Chloe, please?"</p><p>She closes her eyes and breathes for a moment, before sighing in defeat. "Fine. <em>Fine.</em> Let's have a little chat, then." She glances up and catches Linda's eye on them, and nods at her to join them. Maze and Eve are huddled together across the room, waiting like the rest of them. </p><p>Linda comes to sit with Chloe and Dan, and Chloe explains. "Dan wants to talk. I thought, with the questions he probably has, it'd be helpful if you were on-hand to help with some of the explanations I might not have yet."</p><p>"I'm happy to help however I can," Linda assures them. "If you like, I can just listen unless you need me."</p><p>Chloe lifts her eyebrows at Dan, and gestures for him to begin.</p><p>"So, I've had a lot of time to think about... well, <em>everything</em> over the past few weeks, and... I wanted to let you know that I do realize that I screwed up, really bad." He lets out a shaky breath. "And I don't just mean by shooting you-- but that is something I <em>never</em> would have done on purpose, Chloe, I swear! I don't know-- I just... I'm so glad you're okay. I'm so thankful that Lucifer was able to get you to the hospital in time to save you. I'm going to owe him forever for that, and for keeping Trixie safe before. But... I wanted to say, to let you know that I regret how I reacted, what I did, and... and that I hope you and Lucifer can help me find a way to make up for what I've done. Amenadiel told me a little about Charlotte's experience, and... and I hope I can be half as successful as she was at redeeming herself. I want to be someone that Trixie can be proud of." He closes his mouth, pressing his lips together as though he feels like he's said too much, and Chloe takes a little pity on him.</p><p>"I'm glad you're thinking now, Dan." She manages a tiny smile, but it doesn't make a lasting impression on her expression. "I do know what it feels like to have that first realization-- I've only known for about 2 months now-- since Pierce died, actually, that's when I saw. And... I didn't react well either." She glances down at her clenched hands, feeling her fingernails biting into her palms and flickers a glance up to Linda, who is watching her encouragingly. Linda's heard this story before. "I ran to Rome, and I think you already know what happened there. I've read Kinley's journal, and it was pretty accurate. I realized what Kinley was before I played out the part he wanted to me to fill... I already knew at that point that Lucifer wasn't anything like what Kinley tried to get me to believe he was. But Lucifer got poisoned anyway. And then he took that axe for me the same night... which could only hurt him because <em>I</em> was there." She pulls in a shaky breath of her own before she can continue. "It was horrible, Dan. In order for him to heal like he should, I needed to be far away, but if I left him the poison was going to kill him, because it targeted his divinity. I used to have an effect on that, which is why he used to be able to be vulnerable when I was around. When he finally woke up and I confessed everything... I hurt him so much. He's tried so many times to convince me to walk away from him, but I can't do it. He's a <em>good man, </em>Dan. He wouldn't hurt any of us for anything, and--"</p><p>"I know, Chloe," Dan interrupts when she chokes up. "Dr. Martin had me go back through my own experiences with him and write down everything I remembered-- the good, the bad, and the annoying. And... while the 'annoying' list was probably the longest, the good wasn't too far behind, and the bad was... almost laughable compared to the other two."</p><p>"Tomatoes and pudding?"</p><p>"Tomatoes and pudding," he agrees with a small smile. "With a few others peppered in there. But really-- when we have a moment without a crisis, I would like to talk with both of you about how I can start to make amends."</p><p>"I'm still working on that myself," she admits ruefully. "It's not going to be easy, Dan. He'd forgive you much more easily if it had only been him you threatened, but he's very protective of his friends, and you not only put me in danger, but also Ella and <em>Trixie</em>..."</p><p>"Believe me I know," Dan rubs his hands over his face, "This entire nightmare has been all I've thought about for weeks. How easily it could have gone a different way, and one or both of you could have died, all because of me."</p><p>"It sucks." Chloe comments baldly, and Dan barks a humorless laugh.</p><p>"It sucks big time," he agrees.</p><p>"I can't forgive you yet, Dan," she warns him, and he nods acceptance. He hadn't expected forgiveness, especially not this soon. "If you're serious, and if you follow through with everything you're saying... then we can keep moving forward. And you're going to have to have this talk with Trixie, too."</p><p>"Oh yes," and now he does chuckle a little. "She's already given me one lecture, I'm ready for more. And now I can show her that I <em>have</em> been talking to someone to get help, so hopefully that will get my foot in the door with her."</p><p>"She's having a really tough time right now-- she's having to learn to trust both of us again. I told her the truth about my own lapse in judgement and we were just getting back on an even keel when you had your revelation..."</p><p>"You really <em>did</em> tell her that he's the Devil?" Dan asks incredulously. "Chloe, what on--"</p><p>"I didn't <em>need</em> to tell her, she already knew." Chloe's temper flares and Dan backs off immediately. "She knows Lucifer doesn't lie, and she believed him from day one, when he scared that bully off of her. And she made him one of her very best friends."</p><p>"And Maze," Dan says absently, eyes straying across the room to where Maze and Eve sit talking quietly together.</p><p>"And Maze," Chloe hums her agreement. "I think Trixie's the smartest of all of us."</p><p>"I can't disagree with that."</p><p>***********************</p><p>"Amenadiel!" Arael greets cheerfully, "I didn't expect to see you back so soon! I've been doing some thinking about--"</p><p>"Arael," Amenadiel interrupts brusquely, "Have you seen Lucifer?"</p><p>"Yes, of course brother," Arael seems confused. "Why do you ask?"</p><p>"Oh, thank Father!" Amenadiel heaves a sigh of relief. "Can you tell me where he is? Has there been any trouble since he arrived? I need to speak with him."</p><p>"Since he arrived? Is he making visits already? I thought Azrael and I were supposed to be helping Father to break the news to the Host before he was going to even attempt entry to the Silver City? He seemed like he really didn't have any interest in even visiting until his human friends started passing on..."</p><p>"Wait..." Amenadiel stops, distracted. "You didn't see Lucifer here?"</p><p>"No, of course not," Arael lifts an eyebrow and clarifies for his befuddled brother. "He asked me to make a visit to Earth for a chat. He said that Father would be asking for my and Azrael's council about how to reintroduce him to the Host without causing panic about a ridiculous war. He told us the story of his Fall, and of his time in Hell, but I haven't seen him since then. Why are you looking for him <em>here</em>, of all places?"</p><p>"We're nearly positive Michael's gone after him. Mazikeen can't sense him on Earth or in Hell, and now we've found an enormous puddle of blood with one of Lucifer's feathers in it... but we can't find a body. We think Michael's got some plot going on Earth, but we don't know what it is yet."</p><p>"You think Michael's killed Lucifer?" Arael breathes, appalled. Even though death of his body wouldn't be true death for Lucifer, it's still unthinkable. Especially as the most likely place Lucifer would go would be to Hell. Knowing now what he went through while he was there, Arael wouldn't wish that on anyone. "But... if he's not in Hell, and he's not on Earth... Maybe he is here and hasn't come to find me? Perhaps they detained him at the gates, and I haven't heard about it-- I do tend to stick to the gardens most of the time."</p><p>"Who's taken over Uriel's welcoming duties?"</p><p>"Zerachiel," Arael supplies. "Come, brother, I'll take you to him."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. You Look Like You've Seen a Ghost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Don’t be ridiculous,” Zerachiel scoffs, squinting his flat brown eyes at his brothers suspiciously. “Why would I have seen Lucifer come through here?”</p><p>“You’re certain, Zerachiel?” Amenadiel presses urgently. “You haven’t seen Michael either, right?”</p><p>“I’ve been busy enough with the new arrivals without trying to keep track of both halves of the Demiurge, thanks,” the younger angel snaps. Amenadiel spares a moment to wonder how one of their least sociable siblings managed to be assigned the position of Heavenly Welcoming Committee. “I haven’t seen Michael in centuries—we’re both busy, and frankly, I really don’t like him all that much so I’m happy with that situation. Can I get back to work now? These souls <em>never stop coming in.”</em></p><p>“Thanks, brother,” Amenadiel replies absently as he turns away, meeting Arael’s concerned cerulean gaze. “I need to speak with Father.”</p><p>“Now is the time to try, since Michael isn’t here. He’s been blocking all of us from contact with Father for ages, ever since he’s placed himself at his right hand.”</p><p>“When <em>did</em> that happen? I noticed it when I brought Charlotte, but it had been so long since my last visit, I didn’t have a chance to find out—”</p><p>“He made his move after you stopped coming back. You had been Father’s right hand for so long, and when you didn’t return…”</p><p><em>So, within the time I’ve been on Earth watching Lucifer, in the past nine years…</em> Of course, in Heaven that’s thousands of years. Less time than it would have been in Hell, but still plenty of time for Michael to cause problems. Amenadiel expels a frustrated breath. Who knew of the two twins the one he <em>should</em> have been watching for trouble was the Sword of God? They make their way to their father’s study, and Amenadiel raps confidently on the door while Arael hangs back. They wait. Arael’s anxiety grows with each passing moment, and finally Amenadiel takes pity on his brother.</p><p>“Arael, can you go to Earth, to Linda’s home and give them an update while I’m waiting for Father? Perhaps they can start considering places that Michael may have hidden Lucifer from Maze’s senses. The sooner we can figure out what he’s up to, the better.”</p><p>*</p><p>Ella hurries to Linda’s once she’s done at the crime scene, calling out sick for the rest of the day with instructions to update her if a body is found that matches her scene from this morning. The feather is a match for those found at the loft scene, and the blood analysis comparisons were also identical. The writhing pit of darkness in her stomach makes her feel like she’s about to vomit as she weaves her way through LA traffic to get to her friends.</p><p>She gets lost in her whirling thoughts as she’s knocking at the door, to the point where she’s still rapidly knocking as Maze flings the door open, knives ready. “What the hell, Ellen?”</p><p>“Sorry, Maze, sorry,” she slips in the door past the demon and hurries down the stairs to the main level. She takes in the grouping, stopping short when she notices Dan. “Umm… heeeey Dan, I uh, didn’t realize you were here.”</p><p>“We’ve mostly been ignoring him,” Maze slouches past her, back to the loveseat where Eve is perched. Dan’s face flushes.</p><p>“Long story short, Michael bailed him out but we don’t know why. His doctor says he’s not an immediate danger to anyone, <em>he</em> says he wants to make amends, and… he doesn’t have anywhere else to go right now because his apartment has already been leased out.” Chloe fills in quickly. “You have news.”</p><p>“You’re not going to like it,” Ella blurts, blunt as ever.</p><p>“The feather and blood match.” Chloe doesn’t seem surprised, only resigned. Ella notices her absently rubbing her thumb against her sternum as she speaks. “We’d hoped that Michael had just dragged Lucifer back to Hell, but when you called about that puddle of blood, and Lucifer isn’t in Hell… Michael <em>must</em> have k-killed him and he wound up in Heaven instead. You said it wasn’t survivable?  You’re sure?”</p><p>“Well, no… I mean, he’s a friggin’ archangel, I can’t sure of <em>anything</em> except that it was an enormous amount of blood, Chloe, and that the feather is a definite match. And the fact that nobody’s heard from him today at all? That doesn’t add up to good. What’s the plan? You <em>did</em> say we’re getting him back? How is that possible?”</p><p>“Celestial bodies don’t corrupt,” Maze volunteers. “They don’t decompose or break down at all, so if we can <em>find</em> his body, all we need to do is have Amenadiel take it to Heaven and they can fuse his soul back into it.”</p><p>“Okay, so… how do we find a body that could be literally <em>anywhere</em>?” Linda asks hesitantly. “And how do we find out what Michael’s plan is?”</p><p>“I might be able to help with some of that?” A new voice chimes from behind Ella, and she whirls in greeting, throwing her arms around the speaker.</p><p>“Rae-Rae!”</p><p>“Heya, Lopez.” The Angel of Death wraps her friend in an embrace and glances at the room beyond. “We have a problem. Lu's dead, and it wasn't supposed to happen.”</p><p>*</p><p>“I swear, I left you alone for less than a <em>day</em>, Lu.” Azrael’s tone is exasperated as she appears next to her brother’s soul. “What happened?”</p><p>“Michael came for a visit,” He says simply, straightening his immaculate suit jacket. The only nice thing about being discorporate is that you look the way you want, so of course Lucifer’s clothing is back to its original flawless state. “He was rather adamant that I belong in Hell and was intent on sending me himself. I must say I’m surprised to see you, Azrael, the last few times I haven’t gotten a personal escort-- which has been a bit of a relief really, I mean, Amenadiel was never <em>gentle</em> about it...”</p><p>“Actually… no. Whatever happened before, you’re not Hell-bound this time.”</p><p>“What? That can’t be right,” Lucifer argues. “Surely you can’t mean to march me up to the Silver City’s gates? We’ll cause a riot.”</p><p>“Lu, I don’t have <em>any</em> orders for you… I’ve never had this happen before!” Azrael’s eyes are enormous as she looks up at her brother in confusion.</p><p>“So what does that mean? Am I just… doomed to hover in this… where are we, anyway?” The surroundings are misty. He can make out lots of green, but it’s getting darker.</p><p>“We’re in a woods somewhere, must be where Michael took your body. Really though—what happened?”</p><p>“I don’t bloody know. He attacked me in an alley and pulled out his sword. Some poor sod came into the alley as we were fighting and Michael was going to cleave him in two with that blasted blade of his, so I got in between and… well.  Here I am.  Wherever <em>here</em> is.”</p><p>“Well, I can’t just <em>leave</em> you here. But you’re right about home, if I take you there <em>now</em> we probably will cause a riot. Dad hasn’t even talked to us about how to introduce the idea of you being able to come back yet, we’ve only barely mentioned it to a couple of the others.”</p><p>“Well, whoever they were, they went running straight to my weaselly twin. He knew I’d spoken with you, but it doesn’t sound like he knew what I told you, or that Chloe got to hear the story. He went on a lovely monologue about exactly how he wants to destroy the humans in my life to make sure I feel guilty enough to never escape Hell again as I was bleeding out.” He looks about the misty dimness anxiously. “I don’t suppose I could ask you to go warn Chloe?  Or even Ella?  She could let Chloe know… just in case? I tried praying to Amenadiel before... but I couldn't manage it, and I can't feel a link to anyone now-- is that normal?"</p><p>"Dude, just because you're the Courier of Souls' brother doesn't mean you get all the inside info, you know."</p><p>"Well, if you don't know the answer you can simply <em>say</em> so, Azrael," he smirks, but then his face falls. "Bollocks. I was <em>happy</em>, Rae. For the first time in, well... <em>ever</em>. I had people that loved me, that <em>I</em> loved... and now I'm not likely to ever see them again. Especially if I don't have clearance for either plane... Is this what happened to Uriel? Do you think this is my... my punishment for using your blade against him?"</p><p>"Lu, I didn't even get a call for Uri, he was just... gone. I don't think this has anything to do with that." She gazes at him apologetically. "I'm really sorry, but I'm still playing catch-up from our little storytime yesterday, I can't spend any more time with you right now. I can’t take you with me, so I need to take you to Limbo until I find out what's going on."</p><p>"Limbo is real?" Lucifer's surprise is obvious. "I thought that was just a myth!"</p><p>"I told you, just because you're my brother doesn't mean you have <em>all</em> the inside scoops. There's at least other souls there that can keep you company?"</p><p>He looks around at the dreary indistinctness that surrounds them. "I suppose it can't be worse than Hell... and I'd rather not stay here. If I'm bound to be a lost soul, I may as well have some other lost souls to keep me entertained. Misery loves company, eh?"</p><p>She grabs his arm, and in the next moment he's traded misty green darkness for misty grey lightness, and a susurration of indistinct voices all around him.</p><p>"Well. Hello, everyone." He straightens his already perfect cuffs. “Mind if I join the party?”</p><p>It reminds him of holding court at Lux… if Lux were a horribly morose landscape full of indecisive souls. These souls are all drawn toward him, toward his light. Since he has nothing better to do, he does his best to acknowledge them all. They surround him, pressing in like supplicants, and he surrenders to them. <em>Anything</em> is better than dwelling on the fact that he’ll never see his friends again.</p><p>The souls want to talk. They’ve spent ages here, on a razor’s edge between Heaven and Hell and he can <em>feel</em> the crushing weight of the uncertainty upon them. He throws himself into speaking with them, discussing their situations and deliberations with such focus that he doesn’t notice it happening to the first ones. Finally, from the corner of his eye, he notices a soul he had been speaking with off by itself, a pensive look on its face. Something about it catches his attention and he turns to watch more closely as a look of exquisite relief crosses the face. A burst of soft white light emanates from it as it disappears into a light-colored mist. He glances around, confused, but none of the other souls have reacted to the disappearance of their fellow inmate.</p><p>Time passes, and he continues to distract himself from his own grief by immersing himself in that of these other souls. He pays more attention now, and sees more and more of them disappearing after they speak with him, either in bursts of soft light, or puffs of greasy grey smoke. The first time he witnesses the latter, he realizes what’s happening. The souls are <em>deciding their fates</em>. After speaking with him, they’re considering their situations and making decisions for their final destinations. And still they continue to flock to him.</p><p><em>How many have been trapped here in nothingness? And for how long? </em>He knows he wouldn’t want to be trapped here indefinitely—though for all he knows, he might be. The misplaced souls keep approaching, and he feels his ancient heart reaching out to each one, listening, responding. Trying to carefully nudge the innocents to be gentle with themselves while showing the guilty ones clearly in denial the bare truth of their actions. His fairness has always been unquestioned, even in the Silver City when he was arbitrating disputes between his siblings, and he uses that same judgment now to help these wayward souls judge themselves as worthy of punishment or praise. With every soul that disappears in a halo of divine light, he feels a small sense of real accomplishment, something he’d <em>never </em>experienced in all his time in Hell. He doesn’t have time to address the howling emptiness in his own heart, and that’s perfectly fine with him.</p><p>*</p><p>Chloe feels the words like a kick to the chest, and she staggers back from the near-physical blow. Her palm rests over her sternum, the warmth of Lucifer's divinity there providing the barest of reassurances that he may be <em>dead</em>, but he isn't <em>gone</em>. She tries not to think about falling asleep in his arms last night, of his warm body nestled against hers and his breath in her hair...<em> It's not the last time. We're bringing him back where he belongs.</em></p><p>"So we need to find his body and get it to Heaven so we can bring him back." Linda appears next to her, rubbing her shoulders bracingly. </p><p>"Actually, no," Azrael replies apologetically. "I... this has never happened before, but... I didn't have any orders to collect him. I couldn't take him to Heaven because technically his ban isn't lifted yet. And he wasn't marked for Hell, either, so I couldn't drop him there."</p><p>"Did you bring him here?" Chloe tries not to get her hopes up, but she does glance around the room, as though her expectations could make him materialize before her. </p><p>"Spirits can't stay on this plane, that's why I'm always so <em>busy</em>." </p><p>"If you couldn't take him to Heaven, and we know he's not in Hell... then where is he?" Eve chimes in. "Michael's blade can't destroy souls, can it?"</p><p>Chloe hadn't even let herself consider that option and suddenly she can't breathe. Linda grabs her as her knees weaken, and guides her to a seat, pressing her forward so her head rests between her knees. The room around her disappears, replaced by a fuzzy mistiness and echoing voices for a moment. Ringing down the hollow tunnel of her consciousness, she hears Azrael's reply, which snaps her back to reality.</p><p>"No, that's something only <em>my</em> blade could do, and Lu got rid of it. He's... um, somewhere else."</p><p>"Somewhere <em>other</em> than Heaven, Hell, or Earth?" Dan asks incredulously. "What else is there??"</p><p>"Who's this guy?" Azrael looks askance at Dan, only just realizing she doesn't recognize him.</p><p>"Rae-Rae, these are my friends Linda, Eve, and Maze, and that’s Dan. He's Chloe's ex. Guys, this is my friend Rae-Rae, and... maybe you don't need to know the rest about her just now..." Ella trails off, realizing that Dan may not be freaking out about Lucifer <em>right now</em>, but he may not be ready to be introduced to the <em>Angel of Death</em>. "Rae-Rae, everyone here knows about Lucifer and Amenadiel, but Dan's still super-new, so... be gentle?"</p><p>Azrael looks at Dan's pale expression with narrowed eyes before glancing at Chloe, who shrugs and nods. "Fine. They can call me Azrael." Linda's eyes widen as she recognizes the name. The angel rakes her glance across the room, and answers the question. "There's a third option, but it's not really common. It's got a lot of names, but I just call it Limbo." </p><p>"Lucifer's in Purgatory?" Ella squeaks</p><p>"That's another one of its names, yeah," Azrael doesn't look pleased. "It was the best option I had, I couldn't take him to Heaven and sure wasn't going to stick him in his Hell loop, and he couldn't come with me, okay?  <em>There's only so much I can do!"</em></p><p>"Where is his body, Azrael?" Maze presses. "If you can help us find it, we'll be that much closer to bringing him back."</p><p>"When I'm collecting souls, I'm not on the physical plane," Azrael sighs. "All I know is that Michael buried him in a forest. There's an enormous tree nearby, and some man-made stone steps leading up to the site."</p><p>"Michael wouldn't have dug a grave, sister," Dan whirls in shock at the deep new voice emanating from just behind him and takes in the enormous span of chestnut wings with ivory bars mantled around the red-haired, ocean-eyed giant standing there. The wings fold away to nothing the moment he turns, and the angel speaks again. "Michael is a warrior, his pride wouldn't allow him to dig the earth for a mere grave, especially for a fallen brother."</p><p>"He definitely buried him, though," Azrael is positive. "Uh, Ella, this is my brother Arael. Arael, these are Lu's friends.”</p><p>"So... a giant tree, steps nearby, in a forest... with a pre-existing hole?" Ella ponders for a moment. "Ohmigosh, I know where it is! I mean, I don't know-know, because Lucifer drove and he drives crazy fast and once we got close it was all unmarked roads and I couldn't keep--" </p><p>"Ella!" Chloe bursts out, interrupting the rambling. "Where do you think he's buried??"</p><p>"I think Michael used Uriel's original burial site to dump Lucifer's body." Ella suggests. "The grave was dug up, and the hole was still there, so all he'd have to do is shove the dirt into the hole."</p><p>"He could use his Power for that," Arael muses. "It makes sense. Perhaps you can help me narrow down some locations of this site, Ella?"</p><p>"I can do better than that!" She crows triumphantly. "I think I've still got the map at my lab!"</p><p>"Why do you have a map to Uriel's gravesite?" Linda asks warily.</p><p>"Because we found it, when Lucifer asked for help finding out who had dug it up. The person that dug it up tried to burn the map, but <em>I</em> was able to reassemble it and figure out what it was by rehydrating it with polyvinyl acetate, and--"</p><p>"How very resourceful of you, Ella," Arael is looking at her in admiration and the tiny forensic scientist flushes at the praise. "You'll have to show me that trick when we have some spare time. But for now... can we get the map?"</p><p>"I'm going with you," Chloe blurts suddenly, causing everyone in the room to look at her in surprise.</p><p>"Chloe, are you sure that's a good idea?" Linda queries gently. "I mean... pulling him from a grave isn't going to be an easy sight, let alone seeing what shape Michael's left him in. Are you sure you could handle that?"</p><p>Chloe's vivid imagination calls up the body they'd found buried in the desert when Lucifer had dragged her out to investigate his kidnapping... then imagines seeing <em>Lucifer's</em> features and body unearthed as they dig, the earth clinging to his eyelashes and packed around his nostrils... she can't stifle the sob that bubbles to the surface. She folds inward, clutching her chest as a thready, miserable whine escapes from her lips. Ella and Linda gather around her, murmuring words of comfort, while Eve watches the display sympathetically.</p><p>"We still need to find out what Michael's up to," Maze reminds them all. </p><p>"Oh, yeah, Lu told me a little about that--" Azreal answers. "He said Michael boasted about a plan to step into Lucifer's life and use him to destroy the lives of the humans around him. Lucifer said he wanted to make sure that Lucifer felt guilty enough that he'd never be able to escape his loop. I guess he figured that knowing he would be blamed for his friends' misery would have been enough to do it."</p><p><em>He figured right,</em> Chloe thinks to herself. <em>Lucifer hates being blamed for the bad things that happen, knowing that Michael was doing horrible things to us while pretending to be him would have been torture for him. I'm so glad we decided to go see him the day he told us his story... I never would have caught on... Michael was </em>so convincing<em>. He was right to want to set up a check system.</em></p><p>"Did he tell Lucifer why he bailed me out?" Dan asks timidly, wondering what his part in the plan was. </p><p>"Something about framing you for Lucifer's murder," Azrael seems disinterested. "Lu told me that Michael knew he'd been trying to find a way to help you turn yourself around, and he knew that having the guilt of letting down your family would not only send you to Hell, but would also torture Lu, since the people <em>he</em> loved best, love you."</p><p>Dan looks up at Ella, appalled. "This guy is an <em>angel??"</em></p><p>Ella shrugs. "Apparently, it's a species, not a description."</p><p>"You should meet Raphael," Chloe croaks weakly, "He's nearly as much of a dick."</p><p>Both Azrael and Arael snort in agreement to Chloe's statement. </p><p>"Azrael..." Chloe ventures, and her voice breaks on the word. "We <em>can</em> bring him back, right? You're sure?"</p><p>"Well, I..." the angel hesitates, and glances at Ella's enormous eyes. "He's been brought back before, but... he's never been dead this long. This is brand new territory for all of us, so... we're gonna have to try to figure it out as we go. Now... what's the plan?"</p><p>*</p><p>Michael stands in front of Lucifer's extensive liquor collection in his penthouse and pours himself a measure. He wrinkles his nose at the whiskies that Lucifer obviously prefers, chasing instead the spicier flavor of gin and the burn of vodka.</p><p>He smiles to himself in satisfaction as he thinks over the course of the day. He's successfully set free the former Detective that's already tried to kill Lucifer once. He's managed to con the woman that foolishly thinks the Devil could <em>actually</em> love her into believing that he is his brother. His brother's employees didn't bat an eye when he had appeared downstairs and ordered them to shut down the club for the foreseeable future. Everything is going according to plan. </p><p> The elevator chimes and Michael hurriedly straightens his posture to match his uptight brother’s. He turns with his glass in hand and takes in the woman from this morning, Chloe Decker, stepping out of the doors. He lets a smarmy grin slide across his face and greets her.</p><p>“Detective!” He coos affectionately, and a chill runs down her spine. Everything about him screams <em>Lucifer</em>: the expensive suit, the pocket square that carefully matches his waistcoat, the perfectly styled hair and artfully maintained 5 o’clock shadow.</p><p>“What brings you to my humble domain his evening, darling? Where’s your daughter?” There it is again—it’s the second time he’s called Trixie her daughter. Lucifer <em>never</em> uses that word, he always refers to her as ‘offspring’, ‘spawn’, or ‘child’. It used to annoy the daylights out of her, but now it’s just another way he shows his affection toward them. The alcohol in his glass is clear, not amber, and his eyes… his eyes are <em>cold</em> despite the warmth in his tone. Lucifer’s eyes are never cold. Even when his walls are up and shutters are closed, his eyes burn with light and passion.</p><p>“Trixie’s spending the night with a friend,” she explains lightly, injecting some coyness into her tone. Thanking her history yet again for her years as an actor, to be able to cover her natural reactions to this vile creature before her. “You forgot your phone this morning when you left, so I thought I’d bring it over to you.”</p><p>“Oh, did you now?” He steps closer to her, and she brings a hand up to smooth over his lapel, letting it run over his chest, then up his neck. She lets her fingers trace gently over the familiar lips and the crest of the beloved nose to arch over his eyebrow. “Is that the only reason you stopped by, then?” his tone is suggestive, and she restrains her body’s innate reaction to it.</p><p>“Well, I wanted to see how you were healing up from your ordeal this morning, too,” She steps in close, teasing. She inspects the yellowing bruise surrounding his right eye, and he hisses in a breath as she brushes her fingertips along the reduced swelling of his lip. “Looks like you’re feeling better.”</p><p>“Oh, yes,” he breathes shakily, as her left hand cups his cheek. He doesn't smell like Lucifer, and doesn’t lean into her touch like Lucifer does, but his eyes never leave hers, and his pupils are dilated with lust. “This is nothing, my dear, you know I’ve endured far worse.”</p><p>“I know you have,” she murmurs against his cheek, and he turns to meet her lips just as she pulls back slightly, trailing her fingers along that painfully familiar jawline, conspicuously missing the scar just under the chin.</p><p>He exhales a delighted “Oh!” as she turns away from his seeking mouth, shedding her jacket.</p><p>“And that’s why,” she lifts the hem at the back of her shirt and a leer starts to form on his face. “I don’t feel the slightest bit badly for this.” She pulls the pistol from her waistband and fires a round at his thigh.</p><p>A surprised exclamation bursts from his lips as he tumbles to the ground, laying there looking up at her with his left hand raised in surrender, the right pressed over his thigh.</p><p>“Once, I shot Lucifer to prove he was the Devil,” she announces angrily, staring straight into the doppelganger’s lifeless eyes. “Now, I’m shooting you to prove you’re not.”</p><p>A smirk graces his face, and he lifts his right hand, showing his bloodless palm. “Well done, Detective, Lucifer said you were clever.” His voice without the accent is flat, and oily. He slowly stands, his posture sloped now with his right shoulder held higher than the left. She keeps her weapon trained on him. “How long have you known?”</p><p>“Since this morning,” he takes a step toward her, but stops when she raises the gun in warning. “I thought about your story about the mugger, and decided it didn’t make sense. I thought you might try to drive a wedge between Lucifer and me, but that’s <em>never </em>going to happen. I will never break his trust again.” He takes another step toward her, and she shoots him in the chest.</p><p>“Gah!” He scowls down at the bullet hole in his shirt.</p><p>“Then Maze stopped by and wanted to know where Lucifer was, because she couldn’t <em>sense</em> him.” Michael takes another step toward her and she shoots him again.</p><p>“Ow!” He scoffs, exasperated. “You <em>know</em> that won’t kill me.”</p><p>“No,” she admits, shooting him twice more in the abdomen. “But it does make me feel a little better.”</p><p>He growls and starts to advance again, but stops when he registers movement from the stairwell.</p><p><em>“She’s</em> got something that ought to take you out just fine, though, so if you’re half as clever as you <em>think</em> you are, you’ll abandon whatever half-cocked idea you’ve come up with.” Chloe smirks, nodding at Mazikeen and her array of hell-forged blades. “I suggest—” <em>BLAM</em>  “—you—” <em>BLAM “—leave.” BLAM</em>. The last bullet lands right on target, dead center between his legs, and she’s a bit smug to discover that it’s possible to make even an invulnerable archangel double over and gasp a strangled breath if you hit them in the balls hard enough. <em>“Now.</em>”</p><p>“Good luck pulling him out of his Hell loop,” Michael sneers at her maliciously. “He’s so deep in it by now, he’s likely forgotten there was ever anything more to life.” He takes a moment to gather himself as Maze stalks closer, taking a position at Chloe’s flank. He slowly straightens from cupping himself protectively and glowers at them before unfurling his dull coal-colored wings and disappearing.</p><p>“Nice shooting, Decker,” Maze snickers. “I especially enjoyed the last one. He’s not done though, you know that, right?”</p><p>“I know,” she sighs, feeling the heavy weight of Lucifer’s current situation crushing her now that she doesn’t have anything else to focus on. “But we needed to get him out of here so we have somewhere to keep Lucifer until we can figure out how to get him back from Limbo. And… I just didn’t <em>want</em> him here. This is <em>Lucifer’s</em> home, and Michael doesn’t deserve to be here.”</p><p>“Well, Ellen and Lucifer’s brother should be here with him soon, so we should probably go.”</p><p>“Maze… what if we can’t bring him back?”</p><p>“We <em>will</em>,” the demon declares fiercely. “We <em>have to</em>, I haven’t… I didn’t get a chance to make amends yet.”</p><p>“You too, huh?” Chloe’s mouth twitches sadly at her friend. “Between you, me, and Dan… with friends like us he really doesn’t <em>need</em> enemies, does he?”</p><p>Maze nods. “Linda says making amends is important, and I still need to do that with Trixie, and Dan, and you too apparently.” The demon growls in frustration. “How do you <em>handle</em> these human emotions?  They’re horrible, I don’t know why we don’t use them more for torture in Hell.”</p><p>“They can be bad sometimes,” Chloe agrees gently. “But other times… they can be incredible.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Maze grunts sarcastically. “Like they’re feeling pretty incredible right now?”</p><p>“Now isn’t so incredible,” she admits. “But it won’t be so bad when we manage to get Lucifer back.”</p><p>“Which we still have no <em>idea</em> how to do.” Maze points out artlessly.</p><p>“Which we still have no idea how to do,” Chloe sighs in agreement. “It just… it doesn’t feel right, leaving him here alone, Maze.”</p><p>“He won’t <em>be</em> here, Chloe. You heard Azrael, he’s in Limbo.”</p><p>“And nobody knows <em>anything</em> about Limbo, not even Azrael!” Chloe points out worriedly. “Frankly, that terrifies me. I don’t even want to consider the thought that he could be gone forever. I… I don’t know how I could get over losing him. <em>Especially</em> after finally having a real chance at happiness with him.”</p><p>“I’m a demon. I don’t know anything about happiness, Decker, but I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna find it hanging around an empty penthouse with a dead body.”</p><p>*</p><p>Ella leads Arael and Dan to the burial site just as the sunset starts to spread its colors along the horizon. Fortunately, they planned for this and have come prepared with lanterns and shovels (and blankets, to wrap the disinterred body).</p><p>Arael is no stranger to digging in soil, and Dan is anxious to prove himself helpful, so the men opt to start digging first, with Ella offering to tag in as they need respite. Of course, she didn’t account for the fact that one is an angel and doesn’t get tired, and that the other is too stubborn to admit when he <em>is</em> tired. Fortunately, the ground isn’t packed and is fairly easy to dig. It’s not long before Arael announces that he’s reached his brother’s body.</p><p>Dan hauls himself out of the grave, and Arael gently sweeps the loose earth away from the body before carefully lifting it up and resting it on the edge.</p><p>Ella’s breath catches in a sob, and Dan reaches for her automatically. The harsh lantern light brutally exposes the wounds on Lucifer’s body, clad only in shadows, dried blood, and clinging earth. A ten-inch gash is livid along the left side of his ribcage, and a gaping crevasse at the left shoulder stained with bloody mud gives Ella cause of death and the source of her enormous blood pool from this morning. Dan stares at the wounds on the body, torn between clinical detachment and horror at it being someone he <em>knows</em>. (Even if it is the Devil, it’s a terrible thing to see.)</p><p>“His wings,” she muses. “Would he have folded his wings away before he died? He had to have his wings out for the feather to wind up in the blood, right?”</p><p>A slight crackling sound emerges from the grave, followed by a nauseated gagging.</p><p>“Arael?” Ella peers over the edge into the grave, where the angel still stands. “Are you o—kay…”</p><p>“I…” Arael’s voice is weak and Dan hears rustling and the patter of displaced earth. “I found his wings.”</p><p>Dan reaches down and rolls Lucifer forward, revealing two wide, muddy, bloody swathes cut into the tissue of his back. <em>Exactly where the scars had been that Dan had been shocked to see when they went to the sauna to flush out Boris, the human lie detector.</em> He hadn’t wanted to ask at the time, but now, seeing this… he’s fairly certain that this isn’t the first time that Lucifer has had his wings removed. <em>At least this was post-mortem… or at least I hope it was. What would it feel like to have wings removed while you’re alive?</em> He doubts there are anesthetics that work on angels… or Devils, for that matter.</p><p>“Please pass me a blanket so I may wrap them, Ella?” Arael asks quietly. “I know divinity is difficult for humans to process and I don’t wish to make this more difficult on the two of you than it already is.”</p><p>Ella hands a neatly folded blanket down, and a few minutes later, Arael climbs gingerly from the empty grave, gently cradling the carefully folded and wrapped remains of Lucifer’s severed wings.</p><p>“If you would consent to carry these, Ella,” Arael hands them reverently to her, “I will carry my brother. Dan, if you will lead the way with the lights and equipment?”</p><p>It’s a somber procession back to Ella’s car, where they manage to (barely) fit Lucifer’s wings into the trunk of Ella’s subcompact. Arael decides it will be far easier for him to fly Lucifer back to Lux, where it’s been decided they’ll house his body until they figure out how to reunite his soul with it.</p><p>*</p><p>Arael lands on the balcony at Lux with his tragic burden, and is surprised to find Chloe opening the glass doors for him to enter the flat.</p><p>“Oh my—you found him?” Her eyes rake the carefully covered bundle eagerly, and he finds himself at a loss for words.</p><p>“Ms. Decker—Chloe,” he begins, and flounders. “You should not be here for this. The wounds are grievous, and his body will need a thorough cleaning if we are to attempt this reunification of his body and soul. I… Lucifer would not thank me for causing you more pain by allowing you to see what was done to him.”</p><p>“I’m a homicide detective, Arael,” Chloe’s voice shakes a bit, but the foundation is firm—she has no intentions of being kept away. “I see horrible, fatal wounds every day, it’s my job.”</p><p>“And are those wounds typically inflicted upon someone you love, Chloe?” Arael asks gently.</p><p>“No,” she whispers, and he feels a surge of respect for this human woman, placed in a situation well out of her depth of understanding, that is refusing to leave the Devil’s side. “but I need to see him.”</p><p>His gaze softens, and he relents. “I will perform the act of ablution, and then you may see him. You need not bear the burden of seeing him fresh from his grave, Chloe. Allow me to spare you that.”</p><p>Chloe’s mind’s eye helpfully shows her the vision from before, the dirt caked in his eyelashes and nose, pressed into his wounds. She squeezes her eyes closed and a tear tracks down her cheek before she can stop it. She swallows hard and nods, resting her hand briefly on the blanket covering Lucifer’s forehead before turning away and disappearing into the penthouse.</p><p>Arael, relieved, looks around the balcony and spies a low table long enough to support his brother’s height. He unwraps the body, lying it in repose upon the table before going to find cloths to perform the ablution. He finds a deep bowl and uses warm water from the idling hot tub, carefully washing away the dirt and mud and blood from his brother’s form. The body is cool to the touch without the soul to animate it, but unlike a human body, there is no stiffness, no corruption or odor. Only the dormant divine biological material spun directly from the hands of the Creator. The wounds almost look <em>more</em> obscene once the body is clean, the paleness of the skin contrasting sickeningly with the deep red of the ravaged muscle and the stark white of splintered bone. Livid purple bruising stains the areas around the gash on his side and the barbaric cleft in his shoulder, but not around the wing removal sites.</p><p>
  <em>Thank goodness for that, Michael didn’t pull his wings off while he was alive, like a human child torturing a fly.</em>
</p><p>He lifts the body and moves it to the bedroom, laying it on the bed and draping it in a clean sheet.</p><p>“Chloe, it is done.” His voice isn’t loud, but the silence in the penthouse is sepulchral and he has no doubt that she hears him. He sends a quick prayer to Azrael and Amenadiel, letting them know that their brother’s body has been retrieved. Amenadiel responds that he’s still waiting for an audience with their Father, and Azrael replies with the prayer version of a “seen at 5:42 PM”.</p><p>Chloe appears at the entrance of the room, the events of the day weighing heavily on her shoulders. Her eyes dim and her shoulders sag as she takes in the still, shrouded form on the bed but she moves closer nonetheless, drawn as though by a magnetic force. She tentatively reaches out and pulls the sheet down to his waist in one long, slow motion. Her fingers hover over his face, but she can’t—won’t allow herself to—touch him. Her eyes sweep over the fatal shoulder wound, the slash over the ribs, the fresh stab wound over the old scar on the chin. Something flickers in her eyes, rearing its head from the anguished ocean depths and for a moment Arael is certain that they flare red. But a moment later all he can see is anger, and a grief as profound as any he’s ever known.</p><p>“He’s going to pay for this, Arael,” her voice is quiet, but it carries a clear threat. “Michael isn’t going to get away with this. Lucifer isn’t the only one that punishes evil.”</p><p>“You’re right, he isn’t,” The angel’s eyes don’t leave the human woman standing beside the body.</p><p>*</p><p>The ride back from the gravesite is awkward, and for Ella to admit it… that’s saying something. It hadn’t been so bad on the way <em>to</em> the site, Dan was navigating with the map and Ella would simply ask Arael questions to fill the time in between directional prompts.</p><p>Now, though, they have plenty of time to think about the fact that the last time they were alone together they were waiting for the police to come and pick up Dan after he’d tried to kill the man—angel—devil, whatever—they’d just dug up.</p><p>“Ella,” a heavy sigh escapes from Dan, “I want you to know that I am really, <em>really</em> sorry for what I did.”</p><p>Ella doesn’t respond, and Dan continues into the silence. “I know I screwed up, bad. Going after Lucifer was the wrong thing to do, especially without trying to find out more about the truth first. Putting you and Chloe in harm’s way was <em>never </em>anything I wanted to do. I’ve already talked to Chloe, and I still need to talk to Trixie and—and Lucifer, when he’s better. But… I’m going to find a way to make up for what I did, somehow. I just… I might need some suggestions on the best way to do that.”</p><p>“I understand screwing up, Dan, we’ve <em>all</em> done that before,” Ella admits, not taking her eyes off the dark road ahead. “You realize that you were <em>way</em> off the rails even before you nearly killed Chloe, though, right? Telling Tiernan to go after Lucifer for crippling Julian? Blaming Lucifer for Charlotte? Running from the cops when you were <em>there </em>when Rivas was arrested? None of that was okay, not even close. It’s beyond lucky that someone hasn’t died, Dan, in fact, if Lucifer wasn’t so dead sure that his dad is totally hands-off, I’d be considering the validity of divine intervention at this point. I know you’re out on bail, and you’re trying to help now and that’s great and all, but you’ve got a seriously long way to go to truly make amends. Grieving the loss of a loved one only gets you so much slack, and you used that up at least 2 screw-ups ago.”</p><p>“I know,” he murmurs despondently, but she can’t stir even the slightest sympathy for him right now.</p><p>“You keep working on it, and I mean <em>really working on it</em>, and we’ll talk again in a while.” Her lips thin as her jaw clenches. “I’m glad you’re taking the steps to address your mistakes, but you’ve gotta prove to me that you’re gonna keep moving on the right path, because I don’t trust you right now.”</p><p>He starts to respond, but Ella keeps talking, and once she starts, she doesn’t stop.</p><p>“And you know what? It <em>totally blows</em>. I’ve had <em>just</em> as shitty a time as you guys have these past couple months, and I can’t break down about it because <em>everyone else around me is</em> and <em>someone</em> has to keep it together or the whole damn world is gonna go to shit! We lost Charlotte, and she was a good friend to me. Then Pierce turns out to be a psycho serial-killer criminal mastermind. Chloe disappears for a month without a word and you go down the rabbit hole over losing Charlotte. Chloe comes back and everything is <em>wrong</em> because she’s freaking out about Lucifer and is secretly plotting to send him back to Hell and then he gets seriously wounded and <em>freaking poisoned</em>. While all THAT is happening <em>I</em> get the bombshell dropped on me that my long-time ghost friend is actually the <em>freaking Angel of Death</em> and also my <em>best friend’s sister</em>, and oh yeah, <em>my best friend is the Devil, and might be dying</em> because of this poison thing. We no sooner get him past the poisoning when Chloe has yet another freak-out and sends him back to HELL, which I have to find out about via <em>letter</em>, AT WORK. We manage to drag him back to Earth and then <em>you</em>, you asshole, come in trying to kill him, while also endangering <em>me</em> and then shooting <em>Chloe</em>. And now my <em>best friend </em>is dead, and we’re trying to find a way to bring him back AGAIN. I can’t even talk to my psychiatrist about this stuff, because she’d have me committed! I’m so DONE, Dan. If anybody deserves a breakdown at this point, it’s ME, okay?  BUT YOU DON’T SEE ME FREAKING OUT, DO YOU?!”</p><p>He stares at her from the passenger seat, his eyes widening further and further as her tirade had gone on. She’s panting in the driver’s seat, knuckles white as she grips the steering wheel with her eyes sparkling with tears, and all he can think to say is, “Er… no?”</p><p>She slams on the brakes in the middle of the deserted service road and glares at him, and he has a moment to consider that if you’re murdered by a forensic scientist, <em>no one</em> will ever find your body. And then she starts laughing. It’s a broken, painful, hysterical laugh that’s ¾ stress and ¼ grief, and he doesn’t dare reach for her to try to console her because she’s already on edge and certainly doesn’t trust him.</p><p>“Hey, uh…” He attempts, “How about I drive us back? That way you can get some rest?” She can only nod. She places the car in park and switches sides with him, the laughter giving way to quiet hiccupping sobs as she settles into the passenger seat, curling around herself and leaning against the door.</p><p>After a while, her sobs have subsided into the occasional sniffle and shuddering breath. Finally, she breaks the silence again. “It’s just… I took a break from the Big Guy, after Charlotte. I just couldn’t see <em>how</em> He could be okay with such a terrible thing happening. And now it feels like He’s all in my face, and I’m just so <em>mad</em> at Him, and… and He doesn’t even <em>care.</em>” Another sniffle, then, softer, “Lucifer’s His son, and <em>He doesn’t even care.”</em></p><p>Dan can’t say anything to that, so he simply focuses on getting them back to Lux. He’d already accepted that Lucifer wasn’t evil, and had started sniffing around the idea that he was actually pretty good. But with someone like Ella so firmly in the Devil’s corner, despite knowing exactly who and what he is, Dan’s mind is finally clear.</p><p><em>I had that too,</em> he thinks wryly to himself. <em>I had that kind of support, and I threw it all away.</em></p><p>They arrive at Lux and remove the wings from the trunk. Even folded and wrapped, they’re a little difficult to maneuver into the lift, it reminds Dan of trying to take his surfboard in his apartment building’s elevator. The doors chime as they reach the penthouse, and each of them take an end.</p><p>“Arael?” Ella calls quietly. “What are we doing with – Chloe, heeeeey!” Ella whirls around, trying to stand in front of the bundle and block Chloe’s view of their burden. It doesn’t work incredibly well, since the wings—even folded— are taller than she is.</p><p>Dan takes in Chloe’s appearance. She looks like Hell, and that’s not an exaggeration. Her eyes are red and swollen, face blotchy from crying. The last time he’d seen her like this was after Palmetto, when she realized how much of a pariah she’d become at the precinct due to her unrelenting pursuit of the truth. She had grieved so much for the loss of the esteem of their peers… and he had let it happen, hoping it would make her stop digging.</p><p>It hadn’t, of course, and that path had led him nowhere good. Literally to the Devil’s doorstep, in fact.</p><p>“What is that?” Her voice is thick with grief, but her mind is sharp as ever.</p><p>“Umm…” Ella prevaricates, unable to come up with a believable lie.</p><p>“Michael removed Lucifer’s wings, Chloe,” Arael’s deep voice sounds from the entrance to Lucifer’s bedroom. “Ella and Dan have brought them.”</p><p>“That bastard cut off his wings?” Her voice rises in outrage, “breaking them once wasn’t enough, <em>killing</em> him wasn’t enough, he had to… to <em>mutilate </em>him too??”</p><p>“Michael will pay for his crimes, Chloe,” Arael reminds her carefully. She turns to go back into bedroom, and his eyes follow her back to Lucifer’s body. She reaches out, hesitates, then takes his shoulder to roll him in order to see the gaping wounds on his back. A tiny whimper escapes her throat at the sight of these newly discovered wounds. If Arael weren’t an angel, he wouldn’t have heard it.</p><p>“He’s… he’s not—” Chloe is quite sure how to articulate what she wants to say. “He’s cold but he’s not… stiff? He doesn’t feel like a—like a body.”</p><p>“No,” Arael agrees. “His body is immortal. No decay or corruption from death would be able to affect it.”</p><p>Chloe pulls him back so his back rests against the mattress once more. Her fingers seem reluctant to move away now that they’ve been allowed to touch him, and she gently cups his cheek. Another tear spills, and Arael looks away.</p><p>*</p><p>Lucifer has no idea how long he’s been here. Time is both nonexistent and speeding by. He speaks with souls, gives his feedback on their situation and moves on to the next. They <em>all</em> desire to speak with him, and what is he but the vehicle of fulfilling desires? He notices after a time that the souls aren’t packed around him quite so closely. The incoherent whispering of the amassed spirits isn’t as deafening as it once had been – how long ago had that been now? The outskirts of his knot of concentration are littered with occasional puffs of grey smoke or flares of hazy white light as souls determine their destinations rather than choosing to stagnate forever in this eternal land of mists.</p><p>Soul by soul, the supplicants approach, speak, and make their decisions until finally the tide is a river, then a trickle, then a leaky faucet, until finally Lucifer stands alone. He glances around at... nothing. </p><p>Oh.  Well, nearly nothing. In the distance he's relieved to make out a single soul, apparently at their ease. He considers just leaving them to it, but as he glances around at the emptiness surrounding him again, he starts to feel his own grief and helplessness gnawing at him again. He can't have that, so he sets off to meet his only remaining distraction. </p><p>The journey takes forever, and no time at all. As he approaches the soul, a wry grin starts to spread across his face. He doesn't call out, but also doesn't slow his approach until he's standing directly in front of the reclining spirit, perfectly at ease.</p><p>"I might have known you'd manage to find a loophole, Cain." He's about to say more, when he suddenly feels a flare of light in his chest, followed by a spectral touch on his shoulder, then a trailing of ghostly fingers on his cheek. He whips around, but no one's there. He turns back to Cain quickly, but he hasn't moved. In fact, he's looking at him with mild concern.</p><p>"Hello to you too, Lucifer," the former immortal greets him dryly. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. It All Went to Hell After I Stabbed You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Amenadiel waits at the door of his father’s study. Patience is one of his virtues, after all, and God has never been known to keep anyone’s schedule but his own. After a time, he receives an update from Arael that Lucifer’s body has been located, along with the information that Azrael had taken Lucifer’s soul to Limbo. Amenadiel blinks at that bit of news. He hadn’t even been aware of a fourth plane of existence… but apparently his little sister had. He considers abandoning his request to meet with his father- if they have Lucifer’s body, and know where his soul is, surely they can manage on their own?</p><p>But then Arael sends an image of Lucifer’s body, and Amenadiel knows he needs to address the Michael issue. Amenadiel knows Lucifer’s preference for going about unarmed. The fact that Michael clearly attacked his unarmed brother with a sword, <em>again</em>, then cut his wings off afterward doesn’t rest well with the Fist of God. So he knocks politely on the door again, and settles in to wait some more.</p><p>Some time later, he’s rocked from his thoughts by a booming peal of laughter coming from behind the workshop door. He startles and notices every angel in the vicinity frozen, with their eyes locked on the door that opens before Amenadiel’s shocked eyes.</p><p>“Ah, Amenadiel the Eldest! Welcome, son, would you like to come in and see what your brother has been up to?”</p><p>Amenadiel shakes himself and steps over the threshold into the office <em>none</em> of them have been allowed inside since Samael had been cast out of Heaven.</p><p>*</p><p>Chloe sits on the edge of the bed, her fingers lingering on Lucifer’s cold cheek. She half-listens to Ella and Arael discussing what to do with the severed wings, closing her eyes and focusing on the quiet light inside her. It hasn’t escaped her notice that it’s not humming in her chest the way it usually does when she’s this close to Lucifer.</p><p><em>Well, obviously… it’s a soul bond, and Lucifer’s soul isn’t here, only his empty shell.</em> Her face crumples in grief, and as she moves to pull her hand away from his cheek she feels a pressure on the back of it, as though fingers are lightly brushing there. She yanks her hand back, rubbing her own fingers across the rapidly-fading tingling. Her eyes take in the body before her, but nothing has changed. Cautiously, she reaches for his hand, wrapping her fingers around it. She feels nothing but the chill of his skin for a moment, then a tingling pressure of a ghostly return squeeze. But he hasn’t moved. Tears spring to her eyes again as the light in her chest slowly blooms into hope.</p><p>“Guys.” She croaks, then clears her throat and tries again. <em>“Guys!”</em></p><p>The conversation in the next room halts, and then they’re in the room with her, responding to the new urgency in her voice.</p><p>“Chloe?”</p><p>“I, um… I can <em>feel</em> him.”</p><p>“Chloe, maybe you should take a break, huh? Maybe head home, get some sleep, and we can—”</p><p>“<em>No,</em> Dan, I mean I can <em>feel him</em>.” Chloe huffs, impatient. “He’s squeezing my hand right now.”</p><p>The other three gaze at her with pity in their eyes, and she wants to scream.</p><p>“Look, I’m not crazy. It’s not something we’ve told people about, because it’s… it’s really personal, but we’re linked.”</p><p>Dan is looking like he’s desperately trying to follow along, but Ella’s expression is intensely interested.</p><p>“Does this have something to do with how you healed so quickly after you got shot? The divinity thing?”</p><p>“Yeah, exactly,” Chloe agrees absently, still focused on the sensation of Lucifer’s hand gripping hers. “Because his divinity kind of adopted me, we have a… kind of a soul link. It… recognizes itself in each of us, and it responds when we’re close to each other.” She brushes a hand over the center of her chest and looks up at them with a watery smile. “I can usually feel it here, but it’s been quiet since… since this morning. But I feel it <em>now</em>. I don’t know how, but he <em>is</em> squeezing my hand. Wherever he is, he can <em>feel </em>me.”</p><p>“Um… you got adopted by what, now?” Dan blurts numbly. Chloe glances up at the three pairs of interested eyes and then down at Lucifer’s hand. She can’t let go of him. She can’t leave him <em>alone</em>, wherever he is. She squeezes his hand and turns back to her audience.</p><p>“We’ve got some time while we’re waiting… why don’t I explain?” No-one notices the faint flickers of divine light flitting from her fingers to Lucifer’s body. “It all started when Lucifer saved me from Pierce, and I saw his face.”</p><p>*</p><p>“Father,” Amenadiel begins respectfully as the heavy door closes behind him, “I need to speak with you regarding Michael—”</p><p>The warm mirth dims in the deep chocolate eyes of the man before him, and his shoulders sag. “Ah, Michael.” The rich voice is filled with grief, but he doesn’t say anything further.</p><p>“He’s killed Lucifer, Father.”</p><p>“I know what he’s chosen to do, My son,” God replies quietly, “and now there’s nothing I can do but let the path he’s chosen play out for him, as has been the case for all My children that have chosen to embrace their own will.”</p><p>“What do You mean?”</p><p>“I know Lucifer has shared with you what I told Chloe about your free will—that you all were created with it, but must actively <em>choose</em> to use it.” Amenadiel nods warily. “Michael, like Uriel before him, has chosen to walk darker paths than I had ever wanted My children to travel. Both of them swayed by envy to target what they perceived to be My favourite son. I had hoped that he would abandon his plotting long before now, but he has not, and now I’m afraid it’s too late.”</p><p>“You can stop him, though!” Amenadiel’s eyes are alight with hope, that his Father will make everything right again.</p><p>“Amenadiel, My son,” God sighs. “Simply because I <em>can</em>, doesn’t mean that I <em>should</em>. Curtailing free will is impossible, and if I stop this particular plan he will merely come up with another. The path Michael has chosen is a difficult one, but he’s been walking it too long to stop now. It will be just as challenging for him, in a way, as Lucifer’s has been.”</p><p>“Father, I don’t understand.”</p><p>“Do you know <em>why</em> so many of your siblings think that Lucifer is My favourite son?”</p><p>“Because you… gave him the duties of light. You set him to light the heavens and help shape the planets. He was at your side constantly before his Fall. You gave him his own kingdom to rule.”</p><p>“Lucifer has always known too well how to <em>love</em>. He loved Me so well that he refused to be sent away when I needed him to tend to his tasks in Hell. He loves his family so well that even after being shunned for millennia, it took one of his siblings threatening to kill—not just one ,but three—of the people that Lucifer loves in order for him to even consider fighting back. I knew this when I made him, as I knew that he would need a stronger foundation of love than the rest of the Host if any of it was going to survive the ordeals he would have to face, if he was going to be able to love again, and—even more difficult—to <em>allow</em> <em>himself</em> to be loved again.”</p><p>“You… gave him those things because you knew you were going to turn him away?”</p><p>“Mmm,” God hums his agreement, and his ancient eyes are full of sadness. “He needed those memories to carry with him, because I could not be there to remind him.”</p><p>“But Michael—”</p><p>“Michael’s journey is different, yet similar. Michael needs to learn how to love, and that is no easy thing. He has many lessons ahead for him, but that is nothing you need concern yourself with.”</p><p>“So you will not help us?”</p><p>“I did not say that I would not help, just that I will not help in the way you are asking me. All will play out as it should, and when it does, I have a task for you that I think you will not find onerous.”</p><p>*</p><p>"You look like you've just seen a ghost."</p><p>“I… I feel as though I’ve just been <em>touched</em> by one, actually,” Lucifer replies, perplexed. He reaches his hand up to brush against the illusory fingers on his cheek and the sensation disappears, leaving him feeling bereft without knowing quite why. “But that’s neither here nor there… much like <em>us,</em> really. What brings you to Limbo, Cain? I thought you’d certainly be Hell-bound.”</p><p>The first murderer gestures to the nondescript ground nearby, inviting his unwanted company to have a seat. Lucifer lounges a comfortable distance away, and Cain begins his story.</p><p>“I considered it,” he admits easily. “But as I lay dying, my mind cleared of all of it. All those years, millennia—I thought I was bored. I wasn’t bored, I was <em>tired</em>. I just wanted peace. You know the only time I’ve felt really relaxed in thousands of years was that day at the beach I had with Chloe? Hell isn’t peaceful. Heaven… well, it’s definitely not as bad as Hell, but Heaven is where your <em>dad</em> is. When the Courier asked me, I simply answered that I wanted rest.” He shrugs. “She brought me here, and it’s been a huge relief. Though now that it’s not so crowded it’s even nicer, so thanks for that. Any ideas how I go about getting rid of <em>you</em>?”</p><p>While Cain had been talking, the invisible fingers had moved to his right hand, and they hadn’t let go. Lucifer tries not to stare at his hand—he knows there is nothing there—but he finds himself gripping those fingers tightly. He knows the shape of them, they’re Chloe’s, he’s <em>sure </em>of it.</p><p>“Well, as it happens, I don’t think you’ll be saddled with me much longer… though I suppose time is relative here. I do have some ideas on how you can keep this place to yourself, should you decide to stay.”</p><p>“Really.” Cain lifts a sardonic eyebrow at his reluctant companion. “Do tell.”</p><p>“It appears that souls only get shunted here when they really can’t decide what they deserve. They haven’t made their decision. All I did was let them talk out their situations, and gave them honest feedback so they could make their deliberation on their destination. Your judgment actually isn’t terrible… If you’re intent on staying here, and you’re enjoying your solitude, <em>you</em> could do that for them, help them move on.”</p><p>Cain thinks about that for a while, and Lucifer doesn’t try to distract him, being too busy focusing on the hand clasped invisibly in his. Sparks of light start to catch his attention in his left shoulder, and his back and shoulders start to itch as they had when his wings were full of new-grown quills.</p><p>“So,” Cain breaks the silence between them, “if souls only wind up here because they can’t decide what they deserve, how did <em>you</em> wind up here?”</p><p>“Ah, yes. Well, as in most situations, I’m the odd case out.” Lucifer chuckles darkly. “My bastard of a twin ambushed me and killed me. I don’t belong in Hell, but my ban on entering Heaven hasn’t been officially lifted yet, so my options were… limited.”</p><p>“Sounds like things were going well for you, then.”</p><p>“You have no idea,” Lucifer snorts. “It’s a shame you’re… you, Cain. I feel like the two of us could have been friends in different circumstances. You know, the Detective saw my devil face return when I stabbed you.”</p><p>“Ah… maybe not going so well for you, in that case.”</p><p>“We’ve… had our ups and downs. We’re working on us.”</p><p>“Except now you’re dead.”</p><p>“I’ve fairly good reason to believe that I won’t be for long,” Lucifer smirks, feeling spectral fingers tracing along his shoulder where his brother’s sword had cleaved the bone.</p><p>“Well then, since we have time, I think I’d like to hear this story before you leave me to my <em>peace</em>.”</p><p>“Well… it all went to hell after I stabbed you…”</p><p>*</p><p>“Wow, Chloe.” Ella breathes, after the tale is brought up to date. “Just… wow.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Chloe agrees with a weak laugh. “It’s been kind of a weird couple months for all of us, hasn’t it?”</p><p>“Weird,” Dan mutters, still struggling. “Weird is definitely one word for it.”</p><p>Arael remains quiet. Chloe isn’t sure exactly how much he had already known, but he isn’t eyeing her with distrust, so she’s willing to accept the silence with aplomb. His eyes narrow, suddenly focusing behind her, and she turns to see what he’s noticing. It takes her a moment, but eventually her eyes reluctantly find the gaping wound in Lucifer’s shoulder—only it’s… not quite as gaping as it had been.</p><p>She leaves her right hand in his—she can still feel his fingers closed around hers—and moves her left hand to trace along the healing edges of the wound. She notices that the splintered collar bone has started to quietly knit itself back together, and she feels a burst of anticipation.</p><p>“Arael—”</p><p>“Yes, I see it,” he replies absently, transferring his gaze to her hand resting on Lucifer’s. “Perhaps you should stay near him after all, Chloe. I don’t know if this is something to do with your shared divinity, or if this is an affect like your lessening of the poison impact… but it seems to make good sense for you to be nearby until we can resolve this situation.”</p><p>Ella leans around Chloe to see what they’re talking about, and exhales in wonder. “This means we can definitely get him back, right? Oh that is <em>so cool</em>, can I stay too?? I mean, I’ve seen sped up healing videos, but <em>this is amazing</em>.”</p><p>“Of course you can stay, Ella. I’d appreciate the company.”</p><p>“So what <em>is</em> it that we’re waiting for, exactly?” Dan ventures. “I mean… nobody really knows what we’re doing, do we? What about the wings? Do those, like, Velcro back on, or is he gonna grow new ones, or—?”</p><p>“Amenadiel is waiting for an audience with Father. We’re hoping He will be able to tell us how to manage bringing Lucifer back and help us with handling Michael.”</p><p>“What if he can’t?” Chloe asks bluntly, “Or <em>won’t</em>… although he did tell me that he wouldn’t stand by and let Lucifer be murdered if he could stop it.”</p><p>“Um… little late for that, isn’t it?” Dan asks snidely, and she shoots him a Look. “Well, you’ve gotta admit it’s hard to get deader than stabbed, bled out, and buried, Chlo’.”</p><p>“God told you that, Chloe?” Ella’s eyes are hopeful.</p><p>“Yeah… I hope he wasn’t lying.”</p><p>“My Father does not lie. That’s one characteristic of His that Lucifer holds tightly to.” Arael interjects quickly, and Chloe feels a surge of relief.</p><p>“Then I know we’re going to get him back.” Chloe declares. “Should we be concentrating on Michael, then? If Lucifer’s body is going to heal, it doesn’t make sense to try to bring him back until it does.”</p><p>“At least enough that he’s not going to be in excruciating pain and bleeding out again,” Ella agrees. “We know that Michael was intending to pin Lucifer’s murder on Dan, and he was planning to do something bad to Chloe while he was pretending to be Lucifer. Now that Chloe <em>knows</em> he’s not Lucifer, he’s going to have to come up with a new plan, so that might buy us some time?”</p><p>“That’s assuming my brother did not already have a backup plan to put in action,” Arael points out reluctantly. “Michael is a strategist, it would not surprise me to find that he may have had multiple layers of plans ready to go for different potential outcomes."</p><p>Ella’s phone rings, the cheery ringtone making them all flinch.</p><p>“Hey Jonesy, how’s it going? Good, yeah, I’m feeling a lot better, that headache really beat me down today, though. Why?” She’s quiet for a moment as Jones speaks, her eyes growing wider. “Really? An anonymous tip, that’s convenient. No, I can check it out. What’s the location? Really. That… isn’t that near Lucifer’s club, Lux? Oh, right. Weird, huh? Okay. Yeah, no actually I was just picking up some meds at a pharmacy not far from there, I can meet the squad there if they don’t mind bringing my kit? Great. Hey thanks, Jonesy, I owe you one bud!” She hangs up the phone and gazes at the body on the bed. “I think Michael’s next layer just got put into play. LAPD just received an anonymous tip that a body potentially linked to my crime scene from this morning could be found here. We need to move him <em>now.”</em></p><p>“Where? Michael’s going to be able to find him at any of our places, and we can’t just keep carting his body from place to place…” Dan throws up his hands.</p><p>“I can take him,” Arael volunteers. “My garden is largely undisturbed, and perhaps the ambient divinity of the Silver City will help the wounds heal faster so we can reunite the body with the soul sooner. Michael will never suspect that Lucifer’s body would wind up in Heaven.”</p><p>“Didn’t someone say that Lucifer arriving in Heaven would cause a problem?  Or a war, or something?” Ella asks hesitantly.</p><p>“Lucifer did hint that if he showed up there, it would cause a problem until the idea had been accepted by the rest of the angels.” Chloe confirms.</p><p>“Then it’s fortunate that only Lucifer’s body will be accompanying me, as his soul is still safely in Limbo.” Arael bends to gather the body into his arms, but Chloe puts a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder.</p><p>“Didn’t you say I should stay close to him until this was all over? Should I try to go with you?”</p><p>“Let me take him now, before your law enforcement arrives. Once we have a chance to evaluate what happens with the healing when he’s out of your influence, we’ll see what arrangements we’ll need to make.”</p><p>Chloe nods and lifts Lucifer’s limp hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to the palm and giving a firm squeeze before releasing it. She feels a chill as his invisible grip slips from her fingers when Arael lifts him and spreads his russet wings, vanishing between heartbearts.</p><p>“C’mon, Dan,” Chloe sighs. “We need to make ourselves scarce if the LAPD is coming. If Michael’s still planning to frame you for Lucifer’s murder, you definitely can’t be found here. Are you okay if we leave you for now, Ella? I’ve got my phone on me, and we’ll head for Linda’s.”</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. I’ll just… do a sweep and see if anything needs to be taken care of.”</p><p>Chloe draws her tribe-mate in for a hug, and thanks her with a sad smile that Ella returns. “We’ll get him back, Chloe. We <em>will.”</em></p><p>“I know. I just… I hope it’s <em>soon.”</em></p><p>*</p><p>“What task will you ask of me, Father?”</p><p>“You will know when it presents itself, and you will find yourself able to perform it admirably, though it is not something that typically falls within your abilities. I will grant it to you for this one instance.”</p><p>“I don’t und—” Amenadiel stiffens as he receives an update from Arael. “Father, Arael has needed to bring Lucifer’s body to the Garden until he’s able to be reconnected with it.”</p><p>“Yes,” God acknowledges solemnly. “Michael is putting his secondary plans into play, still attempting to wreak havoc on the lives of the humans close to Lucifer.”</p><p>“And You can’t—?"</p><p>“No, son, I cannot interfere in this. But perhaps we can use this situation to our advantage.”</p><p>“What advantage would that be?” Amenadiel tries to keep the suspicion out of his voice, but God reads it anyway, giving him a reassuring smile.</p><p>“We were looking for a way to introduce the idea of Lucifer’s banishment from Heaven being lifted.” God muses slowly. “What better way than to show what Michael has done to him? Perhaps it will make your siblings more sympathetic toward their estranged brother to know that Michael has been maneuvering against him all this time.”</p><p>“Father, please tell me You didn’t <em>intend</em> for this to happen.” Amenadiel cringes inwardly at having to ask the question, but God is not angry.</p><p>“This is not <em>My</em> plan, but Michael’s. I warned him back when he first started this path that it would not lead anywhere pleasant for him, but he disregarded the warning.” He pats Amenadiel’s shoulder gently. “My Plan accounts for all potential choices, but that doesn’t mean every part of it brings me joy. This particular situation <em>will</em> work out, son, and I think you will not be disappointed in the outcome. For now, though, you should probably go to your brother.”</p><p>Amenadiel inclines his head respectfully, and exits the room without looking back at his father. God watches him go, feeling a swell of pride at the changes in His Eldest son. He’s looking forward to seeing him continue to grow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. The Goal is to Live</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, you’re here because your brother killed you to keep you out of Heaven… a place you don’t even want to go?”</p><p>“Essentially, that’s it.” Lucifer sighs, starts to run his right hand through his hair but stops. He’s still gripping those fingers, and doesn’t want to let go. He settles for running his left hand over his face. “Michael’s never really been one to be reasoned with.”</p><p>Cain glances at him strangely. “Aside from being dead, is anything wrong?”</p><p>“I <em>know</em> you don’t care about my mental state, Cain, why are you asking?”</p><p>“Because it’s odd, and I’m curious. Your hand has been clenched the entire time we’ve been talking. Something’s up.”</p><p>“You won’t like the answer.”</p><p>“Well that’s nothing new, especially not when you’re involved,” Cain observes wryly, and Lucifer barks a laugh.</p><p>“I have a… bond with Chloe. She’s holding my hand, I can <em>feel</em> her.” He no sooner utters the words when the non-existent fingers tighten on his and he feels a tingling pressure on his palm, then nothing at all. A wave of grief crashes over him as the sensation fades, and he squeezes his eyes closed, trying not to think about what it means.</p><p>
  <em>She just had to go do something, that’s all. Can’t expect her to just keep sitting by a dead body all day.</em>
</p><p>Cain snorts. “I knew there was something between you two. I suppose I’m not surprised your dad had his fingers in that situation, too.”</p><p>“Less than you might think, but yes, there was some involvement. He’s assured Chloe that her feelings are her own, and the link would have only developed if we both <em>truly</em> wanted it.”</p><p>“And you <em>believe</em> that?”</p><p>“Dad doesn’t lie. Chloe gave me the exact words he used, and <em>I</em> haven’t been able to find a loophole that would allow them to mean anything else.” Lucifer’s grin is forced, but smug. “And I am <em>very</em> good at spotting loopholes.”</p><p>They lapse into silence, Lucifer struggling not to give in to his grief at losing that connection to Chloe. The prickling in his shoulder and the itching in his back and shoulders haven’t gone away, so he uses those as an anchor—a way to believe that his friends haven’t given up on him and that he still might have a way back to them.</p><p>*</p><p>Chloe tries to ignore the dull sensation in her chest where Lucifer’s light resides as she and Dan head for Linda’s home. It’s still there, but she’s gotten to used to its happy thrumming that’s become her new normal, having Lucifer nearby nearly all the time. She realizes that they didn’t discuss whether Arael was going to stay in the garden with Lucifer, or if he was going to come back so they’d have a way to contact Amenadiel and Azrael at need.</p><p>
  <em>Great. Michael’s running amok and we’re cut off from all our angelic allies. Way to plan, Decker.</em>
</p><p>“Dan, we need to make sure <em>someone</em> is with you at all times. If Michael’s still intending to frame you for Lucifer’s murder, we need to make sure you’ve got an alibi for every <em>second</em>.” Chloe ponders aloud, trying to distract herself. “I’m just glad that Trixie already had sleepover plans with Amanda tonight… I don’t think I could handle filling her in on all this right now.”</p><p>“Yeah… she’s had a lot to deal with lately,” Dan trails off, before continuing quickly. “Mostly my fault, I know. Do you think we should have her talk to someone? Maybe see if Linda has a recommendation?”</p><p>“I’ve already asked for a recommendation. She hasn’t gotten back to me yet, but it’s going to be tough finding someone who specializes in kids with consideration for all the stuff she’s been through lately.” Chloe bites her lip, thinking. “Linda’s offered to speak with her, if it’s anything specifically celestial-related. But really, I think her primary problems right now are… us.”</p><p><em>“Us?”</em> Dan parrots incredulously. “What does that mean?”</p><p>“Think about it, Dan.” Chloe lays out the facts. “She handled the Malcolm kidnapping thing pretty well overall, a couple basic therapy sessions and they were convinced she was good to go. But all the recent stuff… it’s just been <em>us</em>. I pulled her away from her life for a month while I had my breakdown, and then I broke her trust in me when I did what I did to Lucifer. When I told her, Dan… even toning it down so I wouldn’t scare her too badly—it was heartbreaking. She… she didn’t say a word, just went upstairs and wrapped herself around Lucifer. I caught some of their conversation and the way he defended my actions to her…”</p><p>“And then I did the same thing with Tiernan,” Dan admits, “and that time <em>Trixie</em> was hurt. Then again, and <em>you </em>got hurt. You don't have to tell me what it’s like to break her trust, Chloe. I guess it does kind of say something that the Devil has needed to advocate for both of us, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“I’m just glad she’s got <em>someone</em> she can trust,” Chloe sighs. “Of course, right now…”</p><p>“We’ll get him back, Chlo’.” Dan rests a hand on her forearm, and she blinks, trying not to cry. “We’ll work this mess out, and… and we’ll figure out a new normal.”</p><p>“I think normal’s out the window.” Chloe looses a watery sniff, and Dan’s responding chuckle is wry.</p><p>“Yeah, well. A new normal for <em>us</em>, then.”</p><p>“I’m counting on that, Dan. We’ve both got work to do, here.”</p><p>“We do,” he pauses for a moment before changing the subject. “I hope Amenadiel comes back soon. Or even Arael. I feel too exposed with Michael who-knows-where and no angels down here with us.”</p><p>“I was thinking that too. I was kicking myself for not asking Arael to come back once he took Lucifer somewhere safe. We’ll just… have to stick together as much as possible until someone comes back.”</p><p>*</p><p><em>“Father</em> suggested this?” Arael’s face is slack with shock.</p><p>“He’s not wrong, brother, this may be the best opportunity we have to bring up the idea—we have the proof of Michael’s treachery here, or at least we do until it heals.” He glances anxiously at Lucifer’s body, his stomach twisting at the vicious wounds. Seeing the gaping swathes on Lucifer’s back where his wings had been removed had given him a surge of nausea even worse than he’d experienced when he found Lucifer’s closet full of the wings he’d cut off himself. “We may never have another chance to get literal sympathy for the Devil. And now you know what <em>really</em> happened before and immediately after Lucifer’s fall. Even our siblings have to admit that Lucifer doesn’t lie—they’ll have to acknowledge that Michael has misled them to an excessive degree. I can attest to how much he’s changed in the last few years on Earth, but I think your knowledge is going to be most helpful here. I should go back to Earth and try to limit the havoc that Michael wreaks with our human friends—there’s no one there now to call us for help should they need it. Can we count on you for this, brother?”</p><p>Arael’s gaze lingers on the wounds on his brother’s body before he heaves a sigh and nods wearily. “I will do this. I’ll see if Azrael is available for backup if I need her, but I think most of this will fall to me. I’ll start with Gabriel. He’s the messenger, if I give <em>him</em> the story, he’ll be bound to get the word out.”</p><p>“That’s a wonderful idea!” Amenadiel grins. “Gabriel has a flare for the dramatic as well, so if nothing else it will drum up some curiosity to come and speak with you. Pray if you need me, but I must go.”</p><p>Arael nods as Amenadiel unfurls his wings and crosses back to the Earthly plane. He glances back at the body laid out on the worktable beside him. “I hope you consider this as me working to earn your trust, brother. You know how much I enjoy the company of masses of our siblings.” He closes his eyes and sends a prayer to Gabriel, requesting his presence in the Garden to discuss a serious matter.</p><p>Surprisingly, he doesn’t need to wait long. He’d been prepared to be shunted to the side in favor of more important things, but Gabriel appears almost immediately.</p><p>“Arael! Are you all right, brother, you <em>never—”</em> he doesn’t finish the sentence as he notices the still figure behind his brother. He furls his tawny, black-barred wings away. “Oh, Father, is that Michael? What <em>happened?”</em></p><p>“It is not Michael, Gabriel, though it is his handiwork. This is Lucifer’s body. Michael attacked him, though he was unarmed and not looking for a fight.” Arael’s vivid blue-green eyes lock on Gabriel’s hazel ones, and leave no doubt as to the truth of his statement. “Michael found out that Father was preparing to lift Lucifer’s banishment from the Silver City, and decided that murdering him in cold blood before it was lifted was the best way to prevent him from coming back to us.”</p><p><em>“Michael</em> did this?” Gabriel breathes, shocked. “Are you certain Lucifer didn’t provoke him? That he was unarmed?”</p><p>“I have this information from Azrael, who obtained it from Lucifer’s soul when she collected him.”</p><p>“And we all know Lucifer doesn’t lie.” Gabriel nods.</p><p>“This… isn’t all, brother.” Arael approaches the body and grasps the shoulder, rolling him until the yawning rents over the shoulder blades are visible. Gabriel recognizes the implication immediately and pales.</p><p>“What could possibly render this… this mutilation necessary?” He notices the faint sparks of divine light dancing along the wounds. “What is this? Is… he’s healing?”</p><p>“I have much to impart to you, brother. Do you have some time for a tale?”</p><p>Gabriel’s kind eyes linger on the raw injuries, and he nods resolutely. “Even if I did not have time, this… this needs to be heard. Tell me everything, brother, and I will help you however I may.”</p><p>*</p><p>Amenadiel arrives outside Linda’s door and doesn’t stop to knock when he registers the commotion going on inside. He bursts through the door, wings out, only to find Maze and Chloe standing ten feet apart, shouting at each other. Eve has her arms wrapped around Maze’s midriff, which is probably a good thing since Maze, as usual, has her knives out and ready. No one is holding Chloe back, but Linda is standing near enough to grab her if needed and Dan is standing at a distance, wide eyes bouncing between the demon and the mother of his child.</p><p><em>“What is the meaning of this?”</em> he thunders in his best Fist of God voice, and everyone in the room turns to him. He furls his wings away, and gentles his voice back to his normal, soothing timbre. “What’s happened?”</p><p>“Decker let one of your brothers take Lucifer’s body <em>to Heaven!</em>” Maze spits, with another surge forward that Eve just barely manages to restrain.</p><p>“I told you, Maze, it’s the <em>one</em> place Michael won’t look, and his body needs to heal before we can bring him back. It’s the safest place for him!” Chloe’s demeanor is completely devastated, Amenadiel can see that this wasn’t an easy decision for her, to be parted from Lucifer in every way possible.</p><p>“What if they <em>smite</em> him, Decker?!” Maze shouts, her voice breaking. “What if those other feathery assholes find out he’s there and just decide to go with Michael’s idea to wipe Lucifer off the board entirely?”</p><p>“Arael is with him, and Father as good as assured me that this situation will work out in our favor, though he did say it’s not going to be an easy path.” Amenadiel attempts a soothing tone, and Maze glares at him incredulously. “We’re… using this situation to garner some sympathy for Lucifer in the Silver City, to help smooth the idea of his banishment lifting. Michael has gone too far. Arael is spreading his story as we speak. He will protect him, Maze.”</p><p><em>“He had better,”</em> the demon hisses, before turning and stalking from the room. Eve looks after her, torn.</p><p>“She probably needs some time to cool down, Eve.” Linda suggests, and the tiny woman nods her acquiescence.</p><p>“I know you made the best choice for him, Chloe,” Eve sighs. “I just… It’s been a long time since I’ve been wrapped up in this much drama, I’d forgotten how… <em>exhausting</em> it can be!”</p><p>“Thanks for holding her back, Eve,” Chloe offers with a small smile. “I don’t really need to be missing any pieces of anatomy right now.”</p><p>“And we <em>definitely</em> don’t need to be worrying about Lucifer’s reaction to you missing pieces of anatomy when he gets back,” Eve’s face grins in a genuine smile, and the comment manages to surprise a real laugh from Chloe.</p><p>That kind of light-hearted optimism is <em>exactly</em> what she's needed today. Eve glances back in the direction Maze had gone, and this time she doesn't hesitate. She tosses Chloe one more smile, and follows after her demon girlfriend.</p><p>She finds her on the patio, growling and throwing her knives at the privacy fence.</p><p>"Do you want me to put up a target?" Eve offers lightly. "I'm not a very good artist, but I'm sure we could find a photo of Lucifer and you could pretend it's Michael."</p><p>"I'd be just as happy to throw knives at Lucifer," Maze growls, and Eve sighs. She'd been expecting something like this for some time now.</p><p>"Maze?" Eve ventures, and the demon stills. "What is it that you're so angry with Lucifer about?"</p><p>"I'm not <em>angry!"</em> Another knife flies across the small courtyard and quivers in the fencepost. </p><p>"Coulda fooled me," Eve drawls playfully. "C'mon, tell me what's going on, maybe I can help."</p><p>"I... don't want to..."</p><p>"It's okay if you don't want to tell me, I only--"</p><p><em>"No!" </em> Maze blurts, and she actually sets down the rest of her knives. "I don't... want to <em>care.</em>"</p><p>"Is this about Chloe and Lucifer?"</p><p><em>"No.</em>" A pause, <em>"Yes.</em>.. Maybe a little."</p><p>"Can you tell me?" Eve sits on the wicker loveseat and looks up at Maze through her thick eyelashes. "I'm a really good listener."</p><p>"I'm a demon, Eve, I'm not supposed to care about <em>anything</em>." </p><p>"Well, that can't be right." Eve says bluntly. "Because the things that you <em>do</em> care about, Maze, you care <em>so</em> fiercely. You don't do anything with half your heart, you go all or nothing."</p><p>"That's just it. Eve, it used to be <em>all</em> nothing. Hell was all about torture, and I was <em>the best</em>. And... since we've been here I've watched Lucifer change, and now <em>I'm</em>..."</p><p>"You're changing too? Making friends? Feeling new things... good things? Becoming... more?"</p><p>Maze's dark eyes are shining in the light trickling from inside the house. "How did you know that?"</p><p>"Because that's how you know life is good, Maze. I've been changing since I came back, too. And even more since I met you! I'm learning how to be...<em> me</em>. Not just what someone else expects me to be. And... it's not easy, but it feels right."</p><p>"But I've spent <em>millennia</em> looking after Lucifer's back. When something happens to him, I... I feel... <em>Grrahh</em>!!" Two more knives quiver in the fence, but Eve doesn't bat an eye.</p><p>"You feel helpless, because you couldn't stop it from happening."</p><p>A tiny sniffle, and a nearly invisible nod are the only answers she receives. </p><p>"You see Chloe as a threat to Lucifer?"</p><p>"She <em>is</em> a threat to Lucifer. She can hurt him. She <em>has</em> hurt him. She could do it again, but he keeps trusting her!"</p><p>"So are you. So <em>have</em> you. So <em>could</em> you." Eve's voice is gentle, but she ruthlessly makes her point. "And he trusts you, too, Maze. Every time we trust someone, we give them the ability to hurt us. Loving someone-- either as a friend, as family, or... or something more, like Lucifer and Chloe have-- loving someone like that is <em>always</em> a risk, because it makes us vulnerable. But... Maze, if we don't make those occasional leaps of faith, we risk not feeling anything at all.  And... that's not living. That's just... existing. Sometimes just existing is all we can ask of ourselves, but-- the goal is to <em>live."</em></p><p>
  <em>"I don't know how."</em>
</p><p>"Hey," Eve reaches out a hand and laces her slender fingers between Maze's. "That's okay. Maybe we can figure it out together?"</p><p>Maze sinks down onto the seat next to Eve, and she leans in to press their foreheads together. A trace of dampness flares across Maze's skin as Eve reaches to wipe away a tear from under her eye. "It's okay that you don't know how, Maze, nobody knows what they're doing when they're just starting out. Learning is half the fun."</p><p><em>"This</em> is not fun," Maze snarls, but there's no real heat behind it. </p><p>"No," Eve agrees sadly. <em>"This</em> is exhausting. But it's not Chloe's fault. It's not your fault. It's not even Lucifer's fault, though he'd probably find a way to blame himself for it, if you asked him."</p><p>Maze snickers, but it's faint. "Next you're gonna tell me that I need to accept the choices that other people make."</p><p>"I would never!" The false shock is laid on thickly enough that Maze can catch it, and she snorts. </p><p>"That's what Linda's been telling me for weeks."</p><p>"Linda's a very smart lady," Eve squeezes Maze's hand, brushes her lips gently across hers. "She knows a lot about people stuff."</p><p>"You do, too." Maze reaches up to pull Eve in for a better kiss, and they don't say anything else for quite a while.</p><p>*</p><p>Arael is a bit overwhelmed. He's used to being a bit of a loner, largely ignored by the host and generally happy with that situation. Now his precious Garden is overrun by visiting siblings.</p><p>Gabriel had been silent for so long after Arael finished his tale that he'd started to become nervous, thinking he'd somehow managed to destroy the effort before he was even able to properly begin it.</p><p>"This is... disturbing, brother." Gabriel had admitted, his hazel eyes troubled in his pale face. "I don't like thinking that Michael has been able to mislead all of us so easily, for so long, but if this is truly the tale you received from Lucifer--"</p><p>"Azrael can confirm, if you like, you can call her here. She heard the story just as I did, and the human miracle as well."</p><p>"-- then we need to re-evaluate what we know as the truth. The wounds are obviously from a celestial weapon. I know Lucifer no longer has <em>his</em> sword, that is safely contained in Father's armory. Azrael's blade was lost when Lucifer sent Mother to her own universe, and that was the only other celestial weapon on Earth. Granted, Lucifer <em>could</em> have been carrying an infernal weapon, but I am familiar with his habit of going about unarmed. He always did prefer to war with words." Gabriel mused. "No, this cannot abide. The Host must know the truth. We've had Michael's side for eons, now it is time they hear the other side. May I send them to you, brother?"</p><p>Arael's expression had soured in apprehension, but he could do nothing but agree.  This was exactly the opportunity they'd been hoping for, after all. He just wished it didn't all rest on his socially awkward shoulders.</p><p><em>And yet, here we are,</em> he thinks to himself wryly, as he's surrounded by siblings he's barely spoken to in the last several millennia, all clamoring to hear Lucifer's side of the story after witnessing the appalling wounds inflicted on their fallen brother. </p><p>So Arael tells the tale. Again, and again, sparing no details and not embellishing at all-- though truly the tale is horrific enough to not need <em>any</em> embellishment.</p><p>Those siblings that were present at Lucifer's final "rebellion" find themselves recalling the situation differently as Arael's tale reminds them of what they'd actually <em>seen</em>, versus what they'd convinced themselves had happened. A few become defensive, but several exhibit shame for turning against their brother so easily. </p><p>Many of the visitors exclaim at the evidence of the divine healing taking place, and Arael then needs to explain the soul bond with the human miracle, which results in more exclamations and more explanations from Arael to his amazed audience. </p><p>Just as one wave would get their fill of answers and go off to think, a fresh wave would arrive and Arael would start over again. <em>I'm fairly certain this would be my Hell loop</em>, he groans to himself, bracing for the next round.</p><p>*</p><p>Michael is beyond frustrated.</p><p>
  <em>How did this happen?</em>
</p><p>Not only did he lose the element of surprise-- somehow that pathetic human miracle had figured out his identity-- now he's lost the <em>body!</em>  He'd gone to start phase 2 of the plan, to frame the former Detective for his brother's murder since he could no longer pretend to <em>be</em> him, but the damned grave was <em>empty</em>. He'd tried the first place that came to mind: Lucifer's flat, and sure enough, there it was, cleaned up and laid out on that ridiculously enormous bed of his. It was easy enough to call in an anonymous tip to the police department while he went to find Dan. It would be simple enough to pin the murder on Dan, and make the body disappear before the humans got their hands on anything divine. He could chalk it up to Cain's criminal network covering up a final clean-up job. <em>What was that ridiculous name he'd chosen?  Sinnerman?</em>  Michael snorts derisively. <em>Humans.</em></p><p>But Dan wasn't alone. He was constantly with someone, and Michael couldn't afford to make too many humans disappear at once, or his entire plan would go up in flames. And then, when he'd checked on the flat again, the body was <em>gone</em>. He checked the grave again, the homes of the other humans involved, the police station, nothing. It was enough to make him scream in frustration.</p><p>He needed to regroup. He hadn't planned on needing more than one fallback plan-- these were <em>humans</em> for Dad's sake, just a few thousand years ago they were using pointy sticks to hunt animals a ten times their size. They shouldn't be able to foil an <em>archangel</em> with as much strategic experience as he has so easily. Then it strikes him.</p><p><em>They have help.</em>  Of course! Amenadiel is helping them. And maybe Arael and Azrael, his oddball siblings that were always on the outskirts of the Host, never really mingling. </p><p><em>All right, Azrael has a job that keeps her busy, so she's probably not pulling a lot of weight on this project, which leaves Amenadiel and Arael. Arael isn't a threat, he stays in his garden and keeps his hands in the dirt. Amenadiel, though... </em>Amenadiel had been Father's right hand for eons before his extended stay on Earth to keep an eye on their errant brother had resulted in the coveted position coming into Michael's grasp. He could be a true wrench in Michael's plans. </p><p>Michael sits on the roof of Lux and considers his options as the Los Angeles night sprawls below him.</p><p>*</p><p>Ella stuffs the blanket-wrapped wings into a linen closet. The bundle looks enough like a folded blanket that she really hopes no one will go through the close too thoroughly. Normally she's the one left to do things like that, so… she'll just hope no one else decides to take the initiative today. She can always try to pass them off as cosplay accessories, and try to hide them again before anyone's brain gets fried. </p><p>She does a sweep, but she's pleased to note that Arael was very thorough cleaning up after himself.  She's thankful for that, because it's not long before the elevator chimes and the LAPD streams into the penthouse. Ella announces herself before appearing in the doorway, not wanting to wind up on the wrong end of any more guns for quite a while, thank you very much. The team sweeps and finds no-one (naturally). Jonesy had brought her kit, which she happily takes and starts collecting random samples of things and taking photographs. She notices again the hideous painting of the clown mermaid (merclown?) on the wall in the bedroom, and makes a mental note to ask Lucifer for the story behind that one... because she's <em>sure</em> there is one. </p><p>They find absolutely nothing suspicious, and no one has been able to get in contact with Lucifer (no surprise there, Ella's pretty sure that Limbo doesn't have cell reception), so the team departs as quickly as they came, taking her kit back with them and leaving Ella alone again in the flat. She pulls out her phone.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Hey! Just letting you know that the LAPD got an anonymous tip about a possible body from my crime scene this morning being at Lux. We didn't find anything, but have you heard anything from Lucifer?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Ella hopes that Chloe gets the point that she's being careful in case any of their phone records get pulled into the case. Her phone chimes in almost immediate response.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>I haven't heard from him, but thanks for giving me a heads up! Amenadiel's here. I can ask him.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Ella breathes a sigh of relief that one of the angels is back here with them now. Decker is so good at this stuff. Ella feels like she's playing in some kind of fantasy action flick. <em>Maybe we're all method actors now,</em> she snickers to herself. She steps into the elevator, ready to make her way back to Linda's, which has now become the Unofficial Lucifer Resurrection HQ. </p><p>*</p><p>“Arael!” Phanuel barrels into the Garden and skids to a stop in front of her brother. “Michael has been seen entering Raphael’s study!”</p><p>Arael glances anxiously at his brother’s body. Its time in Heaven has served it well for healing: the wounds are mostly closed, the collarbone knitting nicely. They still have no idea how to reunite the soul with the vessel, but the body would need to be returned to Earth for that anyway, as Lucifer’s soul has not yet been cleared for entry to the Silver City.</p><p>“He’s looking for the body,” Arael closes his eyes in thought. “I need to speak to Amenadiel.”</p><p>“Do what you must, brother,” Phanuel rests a small hand on Arael’s broad shoulder. “It is good that you brought this occurrence to the Host’s attention. We will be able to stall Michael for a short time.”</p><p>*</p><p> Michael lands outside of Raphael’s study and furls his wings as he raps on the door. A few of his lesser siblings pass by, but he doesn’t notice the accusing glances sent his way as he waits impatiently for Raphael to grant him entry. He raps on the door again more forcefully and is finally answered with a snappish, “Well don’t just stand out there, come in!”</p><p>“Raphael.”</p><p>“Michael.” The two brothers have never been close – well, no one has really been close to Michael, save Uriel, who had looked up to Michael as a role model. Michael had thought Uriel a right nuisance, and had felt nothing more than a smug satisfaction at the flare of antipathy for Lucifer that had gone around the Silver City when news of Uriel’s fate had become common knowledge among the Host.</p><p>“Have you seen Amenadiel lately?” Michael’s thought process led him to believe that Amenadiel might have sought help from Raphael to try to bring Lucifer back to life, so naturally he came straight to the source.</p><p>“No, not since we performed the treatment to rid the fallen one of his divinity to see if it would cure the poisoning.” Raphael doesn’t turn from his desk, and his tone is impatient. “Why?”</p><p>“So you haven’t seen Samael since then?”</p><p>“Of course I’ve seen him since then, I had to follow up on the outcome, didn’t I?” the Healer grumbles. “But I haven’t needed to do a follow-up for quite some time now. I ask again, <em>why</em>? You’re the fifth person in here <em>today</em> blathering on about him.”</p><p>“About Amenadiel?”</p><p>“About the <em>fallen one</em>.” Raphael finally turns, exasperated. “I sent the others packing, and I’m about to do the same to you, brother, if you don’t come to your point immediately. I am <em>busy.”</em></p><p>“Just… let me know if Amenadiel comes to see you, all right?  Or Arael, or Azrael.” Michael rolls his eyes, exasperated with his brother’s single-mindedness.</p><p>“Oh, is that all?” Raphael flares, “Not Raguel or Cassiel? Or Anael?”</p><p>“Just those three will do, brother, thank you.” Michael grits his teeth as he maintains surface politeness in his tone. “I’ll leave you to your work.”</p><p>He exits the study into the midst of what seems to be a gathering of his siblings. He glances around detachedly, wondering if one of them has been wounded in a training exercise and the others are escorting him for Healing. Except that he notes no wounded individual, and the gazes that are trained on him would be menacing if he weren’t the Sword of God.</p><p>“Is there a problem?” he asks mildly, not really caring about the answer, but perhaps this will be faster than attempting to push his way through the phalanx of gathered angels. “Something I need to address?”</p><p>“Haven’t you done enough?” Comes an anonymous voice from the middle of the group, and the others rumble their assent.</p><p>“Speak plainly, or allow me to pass,” Michael barks sharply, using his training field voice that has yet to fail to intimidate a pupil.</p><p>“We know what you’ve done,” another voice pipes up, and he turns to face the speaker.</p><p>“Gavreel?” he’s somewhat surprised to see her mixed in a confrontation like this. The Angel of Peace <em>never</em> involves herself in conflict, she’s never even trained with weapons as the rest of the Host has.</p><p>“We’ve seen your handiwork, Michael,” Gavreel seethes, her black eyes wide and shining in her golden face. “and we know the <em>truth</em> of the story behind Lucifer’s fall from grace now.”</p><p>“Oh, do you now?” Michael hides his unease behind a glib smile. “Has Amenadiel been up here singing the song of how our fallen brother has changed over the past few paltry Earth years?”</p><p>“No, we have Lucifer’s story of his time leading up to his fall, and what he experienced afterward as it was told by him to Arael, and Azrael has confirmed the truth of it, independently.”</p><p>
  <em>Hm. Apparently Samael’s story time with them covered more than I suspected. Unfortunate.</em>
</p><p>“As the Sword of God and Father’s right hand, I could not allow the Serpent to slither his way back into the Silver City—” Michael begins, only to be cut off by angry murmurs from the crowd.</p><p>“No,” Gavreel refutes steadily. “We are done listening to <em>your poison,</em> Michael.”</p><p>Michael’s gut clenches at her choice of words, and as he watches his siblings turn from him as one and move away. He stops himself from calling after them, because he doesn’t know what he will do if they disregard him now. He stands frozen for a time, unsure of his next move.</p><p><em>Arael</em>. Now he knows where the body is. Michael growls to himself, and charges toward the garden.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Something's Wrong</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“We need to figure out how to get Lucifer’s soul back into his body. Like, now.” Chloe’s gaze fixes desperately on Amenadiel.</p><p>“His body has healed considerably in the time he’s been in the Silver City. The ambient divinity there gave quite a boost. I need to figure out how to retrieve him from Limbo, then we need a safe place to do so. The process doesn’t result in immediate consciousness, and I don’t want an unexpected visit from Michael while Lucifer’s still out.” His brow creases in thought.</p><p>“What about Lux?” Chloe suggests, “Not the penthouse, but the prohibition tunnels underneath?  They’re not really common knowledge, and they’re pretty defensible.”</p><p>“Michael will definitely check Lux, but… I think he might only think to check the penthouse and the bar…”</p><p>“Some of the rooms in those tunnels are set up as sleeping areas, for staff that need occasional arrangements, or… other things.” Maze gives them a lazy smile as she re-enters the room, fingers linked with Eve’s. “There’s also my apartment, just below the penthouse level, but it’s possible Michael might think to check there.”</p><p>“Okay, how do we find out how to retrieve him from Limbo, then?” Chloe pushes, eager to make some progress on <em>getting Lucifer back</em>. “We know he’s still connected somehow with his body, because he can feel me when I touch him.”</p><p>“He can—what?” Amenadiel stares at Chloe, bewildered.</p><p>“When I touched him, yesterday, he… he touched me back. I could feel him. I touched his cheek and he touched the back of my hand before I yanked away. Then I held his hand, and he squeezed my fingers—he actually didn’t let go until Arael took him away.” Chloe clenches her left hand, remembering that tingling feeling of Lucifer’s ghostly fingers grasping hers desperately.</p><p>“Chloe, are you—”</p><p>“I’m <em>sure</em>, Amenadiel. I <em>felt it</em>,” her hand brushes against her chest, “<em>here</em>, in our Link.”</p><p>“All right, Chloe, I believe you,” Amenadiel shakes his head, working to accept that he’s unlikely to understand <em>anything</em> about his brother’s situation, ever. “If your Link is still intact, then I think it best if we have you nearby. Are you—”</p><p>“Yes, of course I’ll stay with him. <em>When?”</em></p><p><em>Brother, we’ve a problem. Michael is here, looking for Lucifer’s body. Do we have a plan? </em>Arael’s voice fills Amenadiel’s mind, and he closes his eyes in frustration. <em>No time like the present,</em> he thinks to himself wryly.</p><p>
  <em>We’ve just come up with a plan, Arael. It still needs fine-tuning, but can you get the body back to Lux? We’re going to use the tunnels under the club to hide him. We’re fairly certain Michael doesn’t know about them.</em>
</p><p>There’s a brief pause before Arael responds. <em>I’m here now. I brought him to the penthouse to avoid accidentally appearing in front of any humans. Where do I need to go?</em></p><p>“Arael’s just arrived at the penthouse with Lucifer’s body, we need to get there.”</p><p>“I’m going with you,” Maze demands before Chloe can ask for a lift from the angel. The demon and the Detective cross glances for a moment before Chloe acquiesces. In a fight, Maze is going to be much more useful than Chloe will, and she can reach Lux by car from Linda’s in about 20 minutes.</p><p>Amenadiel scoops up the demon and they vanish, leaving Chloe, Eve, Dan, and Linda in the room.</p><p>“Okay, I’m going. You guys should stay here.” Chloe reaches a shaking hand for her keys, and Dan reaches out to place a careful hand on her arm.</p><p>“Chlo’, maybe I should drive?” His concerned expression makes her hesitate and re-evaluate her mental state. Her hands and breathing are shaky, anticipating the next steps of getting Lucifer back.</p><p>“You’re probably right,” she admits reluctantly. Dan gently pries the keys from her stiff fingers, and they set off for Lux.</p><p>*</p><p>“And you’re <em>sure</em> there’s nothing I can do to get you out of my hair?” Cain asks again after a while.</p><p>“So eager to be alone, Piercey?” Lucifer taunts. “I would have thought you’d be a bit reluctant to be left alone with your thoughts, lest you accidentally decide on a direction.”</p><p>“I’ll take my chances,” Cain drawls dryly, and Lucifer laughs.</p><p>“Well, sadly, as much as I’m <em>not</em> enjoying your company, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a while. I know I don’t belong in Hell, and Heaven is currently barred to me. So… we’ll just have to wait for the Detective and my siblings to get me back into my body.”</p><p>“You really don’t think you belong in Hell?”</p><p>“Of course not, why would I?” Lucifer counters, miffed. “The only thing I’ve done that I felt guilty for is something I couldn’t have avoided without having even worse consequences.”</p><p>“Killing me?”  Cain sneers.</p><p>“You think I feel guilty for killing you?” Lucifer laughs incredulously. “Need I remind you that you <em>asked</em> me to help you die?  I was merely holding up my end of the bargain, not to mention protecting the Detective.”</p><p> “You <em>broke</em> that deal, remember? Too afraid your Daddy was going to take retribution, weren’t you?”</p><p>“Well, I kept it in the end, and really I felt better that I was able to do that for you. I really <em>didn’t</em> like breaking my word, but I did need to protect her. I know what you’re trying to do, Cain, and it’s not going to—”</p><p>“Lu? What the heck happened here?”</p><p>“Azrael!” Lucifer chirps happily, climbing gracefully to his feet. “Fancy seeing you here!”</p><p>“Where did all the souls go??”</p><p>“Oh, that.” Lucifer glances around, suddenly nervous. “They, er, were rather keen on speaking with me, on telling me their stories. Once they did, I simply gave them some personalized feedback—you know, an impartial view, if you will. Then they all, um, made their decisions and went on to their final destinations? Well, except Cain here, who insists he just wants peace and prefers to be left here alone.”</p><p>“You cleared out Limbo?” Azrael gazes at him in disbelief. A smile breaks across her round face. “Lu, that’s <em>awesome! </em>I always feel so bad for these guys, I can’t believe you totally wiped the slate!”</p><p>“Well, except for Cain, there.”</p><p>“Oh that one.” Azrael narrows her eyes. “Yeah, he knows how to work the system. Doesn’t want to be punished forever, but he’s afraid to face Dad. He can just stay here, then.”</p><p>“Truly, his judgment isn’t bad. I’ve instructed him on how he can help any future souls decide their directions as they turn up, since he insists he prefers to be alone.”</p><p>“Hm.” Azrael hums noncommittally. “We’ll see how it goes. I can always forcibly haul him to Hell if he causes trouble.”</p><p>“You can’t do that,” Cain’s voice cracks a little as he protests.</p><p>“Can’t I?” Azrael snarls at him, suddenly switching her manifestation to the one Hellbound souls see. “Don’t tell me what I can’t do, son of Adam, I am the Courier of Souls.”</p><p>“I’d rather recommend not getting on her bad side, Cain,” Lucifer chimes in cheerfully. “She’s constantly overworked, and that’s enough to make anyone cranky.” Azrael aims her narrowed eyes at him, and he holds his hands up defensively. “With good reason, of course.”</p><p>“Anyway, I’ve come to get you. They’re nearly ready to retrieve you, but there’s a… slight problem.”</p><p>“Just a slight one, hm?” Lucifer sighs. “Well, do go on, then.”</p><p>“Amenadiel can’t reach you here, so he can’t join you back with your body unless I take you Hell first.” She says the words all in a rush, as though by spitting them out faster it will make them more palatable. Her brother’s nose wrinkles in distaste, but he nods ruefully.</p><p>“All right, then.” He sighs resignedly. “I suppose that means it’s back to my Loop.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Lu… if I had another way—”</p><p>“I know, Rae. Let’s just… get this over with, shall we?” He pulls in a deep breath, nods resolutely. “Cain, remember what I said about your judgment. Don’t abuse your position here, or Azrael will most certainly make sure you are <em>very</em> sorry.”</p><p>Cain waves a hand dismissively. “Good luck with… whatever you’re doing. Now please, leave.”</p><p>“See you never!” Lucifer retorts with a forced grin, before allowing himself to be led away by his sister. “Before you take me, Azrael, is the Detective doing all right?”</p><p>“When I saw her, she was.” Azrael assures him, and he feels the tight knot in his chest loosen just a little. “She’s eager to get you back, Lu, they haven’t forgotten you.”</p><p>“I should certainly hope not!” He exclaims. “It hasn’t been very long on the Earthly plane, has it? I felt her, for a little while, but I can’t now…”</p><p>“No, only a day or so,” she confirms, resting a hand on his elbow. “Arael had to take your body to Heaven to hide it from Michael, he was apparently going to try to frame one of your friends for murdering you after Chloe forced him to admit he wasn’t you. Chloe wasn’t happy with being separated from you, but we didn’t really have a choice.”</p><p>Lucifer’s sigh of relief is audible. “I knew she was clever enough to find him out. Thank you, Azrael, you can deliver me now.”</p><p>“I don’t know how long it will be for you Lu, you know how time is—”</p><p>“I’m well aware, Azrael. I’m prepared for… for my Loop.”</p><p>A flash of vaporous wings, and Lucifer lands.</p><p>He’s crouching in front of Cain’s dead body and hears a gasp from behind him. He turns and Chloe pales, backing away.</p><p>“It’s all true,” she murmurs, as though to herself. “It’s all true.”</p><p>“Detective?” he’s concerned, she’s just been shot in the chest. Even with a vest, that’s not a minor injury. “Are you all right?”</p><p>“Don’t come any closer!” She cries, her voice breaking. He takes a step toward her and she falls backward onto the stairs, scrambling backward in a panic.</p><p>He straightens his cuffs nervously and catches a flash of red, craggy skin. His hands… “Ah. I see that you believe me now.”</p><p>*</p><p>Maze guides Arael and Amenadiel to the tunnels, and they choose one of the deeper furnished rooms to fortify. Arael rests the body on the bed and Amenadiel mutters something about going up to the penthouse for some clothing. Maze, of course, is unfazed by the nudity, and Arael honestly hadn’t paid any attention aside from checking the healing of the wounds.</p><p>“Lucifer doesn’t care about being naked, Amenadiel.” Maze smirks. “But if it bothers you, by all means, you can dress him up however you want.”</p><p>Amenadiel retreats, muttering something about comparing anatomy between brothers being a bad idea. Maze snickers, then takes out her knives, flipping them idly.</p><p>“I’m going to check in with Azrael, to see what we’ll need to do to retrieve Lucifer’s soul from Limbo,” Arael offers, and she nods absently. Her thoughts are focused on the different ways to approach the room and how best to defend them in case Michael comes looking for a fight.</p><p>
  <em>Azrael, sister, we need your expertise. Amenadiel is nearly ready to try to rejoin Lucifer’s body and soul. We need to know how to reach Limbo to pull him back. When you have a moment, can you—?</em>
</p><p>He cuts off the prayer as Azrael’s smoky wings manifest before him, folding away in the blink of an eye.</p><p>“You guys are ready?” she asks eagerly, only to be interrupted by voices and footsteps echoing down the tunnel. They look to the door in time to see Chloe rushing in, a look of relief spreading across her face as she takes in the healing that’s occurred since she’s last seen Lucifer.</p><p>Amenadiel arrives next, holding a pair of Lucifer’s silk pajama pants, trailed distantly by Dan, who averts his eyes from the stripped and prone body. Amenadiel wrestles the pajama bottoms onto the body, and turns to his sister.</p><p>“How do I retrieve him from Limbo, Rae? We need to move quickly, Michael is on the hunt.”</p><p>“I know, Ari told me,” she replies quickly. “You couldn’t get him from Limbo, only <em>I</em> can get there, so I’ve moved him.”</p><p>“Moved him?” Chloe presses.  “Where did you move him?”</p><p>“Dad hasn’t lifted his ban yet, so I had to take him to Hell so Amenadiel could get him—”</p><p>“You <em>took him to Hell?”</em> Chloe snarls. “When? How long has he been there??”</p><p>“I took him when Arael said you were ready to bring him back, just a few minutes ago. I had a tiny break and those rarely happen so I <em>had </em>to do it right then or it might be ages before I could go get him.”</p><p>“Amenadiel—” Chloe turns beseechingly to the dark angel, but he’s already gone. She breathes a sigh of relief, sits on the bed next to Lucifer’s body, and grips his hand with one of hers while resting the other over his still silent heart. “I can’t <em>believe</em> you took him there!”</p><p>“It’s the only option that lets Amenadiel bring him back,” Azrael defends herself vehemently. “<em>I </em>don’t want him there! He definitely doesn’t want to be there, but he told me he was prepared for his loop. He knew what he was signing up for, Chloe, and he knew you were all working to get him back. He asked if <em>you</em> were okay.”</p><p>Maze mutters something faintly derogatory under her breath about soulmates, but everyone ignores her. Arael watches his brother’s body hopefully, but there is no movement yet, no flushing of the skin indicating life, no resuming heartbeat to register to his supernatural hearing.</p><p>“Doesn’t a few minutes here feel like years there?” She asks hesitantly. She doesn’t want to know the answer, but she <em>needs</em> to.</p><p>“Yeah…” Azrael admits. “But… it can actually feel even longer in the Loops. Hell warps time, but the Loops warp it even further, so even seconds here can feel like years.”</p><p>Dan emits a strangled sound from the back of the room, and Maze sends a wicked smile his way. Chloe can’t spare any attention from her fierce contemplation of Lucifer, watching for any minute change. The dormant light in her chest is still at rest, no flaring or humming. She doesn’t feel any ghostly fingers brushing against hers, and as the moments pass she starts to worry.</p><p>“Something’s wrong,” she finally chokes out. “It’s been too long.”</p><p>*</p><p>Amenadiel enters the penthouse at Lux with the cheerful chime of the elevator, and finds Lucifer writhing in pain on the floor as Chloe stands indifferently over him, watching disinterestedly as his brother’s life drains from him.</p><p>“You were right, Lucifer,” the detective says clearly, apathetically. “You <em>aren’t </em>worth it. Go back to where you belong.”</p><p>Lucifer’s prone form froths at the mouth and twitches as little moans of agony escape him until he finally stills, and the scene changes.</p><p>“Lucifer!” Amenadiel cries, just as Cain fires his gun and knocks Chloe back into Lucifer’s horrified embrace. More guns fire and Lucifer’s wings surround them, but he can hear Lucifer’s tormented screams emitting from the feathery cocoon. Suddenly, they’re on a rooftop and Chloe is bleeding from a chest wound in Lucifer’s arms as his brother tries everything he can to staunch the heavy blood flow.</p><p>“Why did you let me choose him, Lucifer?” the not-detective croaks painfully. “Why did you let this happen?”</p><p>Amenadiel kneels at his brother’s side, hand on his shoulder and shaking him. “Lucifer! We need to go!”</p><p>“Amenadiel,” Lucifer rasps. “Look what I’ve done to her.”</p><p>“You’re in your Hell Loop, Luci,” his voice is firm but gentle. “I’m sorry, we needed to bring you here from Limbo so I could retrieve you and bring you back to your body now that it’s healed enough to hold you. We<em> have to go.</em>”</p><p>“I’m… I’m in Hell?” There’s a tiny spark of hope in that voice.</p><p>“You are, Luci, and we need to get you <em>out</em>.”</p><p>Lucifer’s hand snaps up in a swift sideways motion and everything ceases to move but the two angels present. The tension bleeds from him as he realizes what’s happened, that none of <em>this</em> was real. But his eyes don’t leave not-Chloe’s face, the glassy eyes, the blood-soaked torso.</p><p>“Brother, I am a danger to her.” He murmurs brokenly. “Perhaps… perhaps you should leave me here.”</p><p><em>“If</em> I tried that, Luci—which I would <em>not</em>—you know Chloe would try to come get you herself. And you <em>know</em> that the atmosphere here is not friendly to her. Who knows what would happen,” Amenadiel allows his voice to get louder, more forceful. <em>“None</em> of this happened, Luci. Chloe is by your side even now, can’t you feel her?”</p><p>Lucifer’s dark eyes flicker down to his right hand, his left hand hovering over a tingling on his chest. “It’s real.” He breathes, so quietly that Amenadiel nearly has to strain to hear it. “It’s real? The Link?”</p><p>“It’s real, Luci, and she wants you back. <em>I </em>want you back. Trixie, and Linda, and Ella, even Dan—they all have been fighting to get you back to them—<em>back where you belong.”</em></p><p>His brother’s gaze returns to not-Chloe’s lifeless face and something flickers there. “Very well,” he stands up. “Off you pop, Vig, back to work.” The demon in front of them drops Chloe’s guise and scrambles off to do… whatever demons do when they’re not acting out Loops. Lucifer’s gaze transfers back to his brother. “You can take me back for now. I can’t have her trying to come after me, but… I <em>am</em> a danger to her, brother. I… I need to find a way to convince her of this—for her own good.”</p><p>*</p><p>Michael enters Arael’s garden, and stops short in surprise. Not only is Arael <em>not</em> here, but he finds his brother Gabriel here instead.</p><p>“Hello, Michael.” Gabriel greets him, his expression stony. “You’ve been quite busy, it seems.”</p><p>“I am doing what needs to be done, brother,” Michael snarls. “Where have they hidden the body?”</p><p>“I know not where Arael has taken our brother, but I know he has taken him to keep him safe from your further machinations.” Gabriel sneers. “I saw the condition you left him in, Michael—slashed and bloody, wings torn asunder? I knew you were disagreeable, but I never thought that any of us would resort to mutilation of a sibling’s corpse.”</p><p>“Really?” Michael jeers back. “Samael’s murder of Uriel doesn’t bother you, but my actions do?”</p><p>“You know as well as I do that poor Uriel had become unhinged.  His pattern sight was enough to drive anyone mad, I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did. Did you happen to have anything to do with the path that he took, brother? Now that I know how deep your plotting against Lucifer went… it seems more and more likely that you were willing to use Uriel in your schemes as well.”</p><p>“Ah, you really <em>have</em> had a chance to mull it over, haven’t you Gabriel?” His tone is as snide as he can make it, but steady Gabriel doesn’t rise to the bait, merely lifts his eyebrows in patient query. “I may have dropped a few pointed words in Uriel’s vicinity, but what he decided to do with them was entirely his own choice.”</p><p>“So… you planted the idea that Uriel needed to go after Lucifer. Then, when Lucifer has no choice but to either kill Uriel, or allow Uriel to kill not only Mother, but Father’s miracle, you can pin it entirely on Uriel and Lucifer?” Gabriel’s lip curls in distaste. “Really, brother, have you <em>no</em> shame?  No conscience at all? What has happened to <em>twist</em> you so?”</p><p>“What’s happened?” Michael parrots incredulously. “What’s happened, brother? <em>I am exactly as Father made me! </em>I am darkness, I am fear, I am <em>power</em>. What other path than this could Father have possibly intended for me?”</p><p><em>“Any</em> other path, brother!” Gabriel explodes. “Look at Lucifer, for Dad’s sake! He’s been reviled and slandered for millennia, <em>because of you</em>, to the point that he doesn’t even consider himself one of us anymore. All of that hatred directed at him, and yet he still attempts to live up to his light! And you… what, you did all this out of <em>envy</em>? Because you wanted… you wanted what?”</p><p>“I want what he has,” Michael hisses, a mad gleam in his eye as he unfurls his ragged wings. “And, as you know, I always get what I want.”</p><p>He disappears in a flash of soot-colored feathers, leaving Gabriel to gape at the place he had occupied.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Hell Uses Everything Against You.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe sits next to Lucifer’s body, squeezing his hand and trying not to think about the minutes ticking by. She nearly misses the first flutter of his heart under her palm, dismissing it as a manifestation of her eagerness to have him back. That tiny flutter is quickly followed by a sputtering, thready rhythm that segues into a steady cadence beneath her hand.  His chest rises spasmodically as he draws jagged breaths into lungs that have been dormant for far too long, and the first hot tears spill unheeded down her cheeks as she watches the pallor of death slowly start to bloom into the flush of life.</p><p>“Lucifer?” her voice is ragged, barely a whisper. She watches his face carefully, but doesn’t receive a response beyond his continued breathing. <em>Which is enough for now.</em> The others in the room come to attention when she speaks, and a rustle of relief passes around the room.</p><p>Amenadiel enters the room, appearing exhausted. Maze flickers a glance in his direction, taking him in.</p><p>“How bad?”</p><p>“Bad, Maze. It… wasn’t Uriel. Not that I saw, anyway.”</p><p>“So, something else, then.” Her gaze meets Amenadiel’s, then flickers to Chloe and back. He nods, confirming her suspicion, and she grinds her teeth. “Did you have to drag him out?”</p><p>“He came willingly…” he lets the sentence trail off.</p><p>“But?” Chloe prompts, when he doesn’t continue.</p><p>“He came willingly,” Amenadiel repeats, before reluctantly continuing, “But he was stuck in his Loop for a while, and… we may see some effect.”</p><p>“What effect, Amenadiel?” Chloe asks sharply, but she doesn’t tear her gaze away from Lucifer’s face.</p><p>“Loops are deeply personal, Chloe,” Amenadiel prevaricates. “They’re tailored to specifically target the inmate’s worst fears or memories, or thoughts.”</p><p>“Was it… was I in it?”</p><p>“You were… there, in the two scenarios I witnessed.” Amenadiel admits. “You’ll need to ask Lucifer if you want more detail than that, Chloe.”</p><p>She nods, eyes fixed firmly on Lucifer’s unmoving face. The other three glance at each other, engaging in silent conversation. They reach an accord shortly, and head for the door of the room. As they exit, Amenadiel calls over his shoulder, “We’ll head up to Lux, Chloe, and keep a lookout. Michael doesn’t know about these tunnels, so if he checks here, he’ll likely check the penthouse first. There’s no cell service down here, so we’ll be checking in frequently.”</p><p>“How long until he wakes, Amenadiel?”</p><p>“It’s hard to say,” the angel fills the doorway when he pauses. “The wounds healed better than I expected so far, but the blood loss will need to replenish before he can support full consciousness. The body couldn’t start that process until the heart started back up. I hope for all our sakes, it’s soon. We can’t hold Michael off for long without him.”</p><p>Chloe listens to the receding echoes of their footsteps down the narrow corridor until finally the only sound in the room with them is their breathing. She lets the sound of his deep, even respirations calm the fears that she’s kept buried all day, since she’d discovered what Michael had done.</p><p>Ella had filled her in on the witness statement from the grocery worker in the alleyway. How one of the men had swung at him with a sword and the other had stepped in front of him despite being unarmed.</p><p><em>Lucifer, why didn’t you fight back? </em>She bites her lip as she tries to piece together the scenario. Lucifer <em>had</em> fought back, at least a little—Michael’s black eye and split lip attest to that—but Lucifer had shown her how deadly sharp his wing feathers could be… why didn’t he <em>really</em> fight when it became clear that Michael was out for blood? When he drew his sword? Her mind flashes back to the Wesley Cabot case, when Lucifer had been so concerned about her safety. She knows now that was when Uriel had been plotting against Lucifer, trying to coerce him into sending his mother back to Hell or Uriel would kill Chloe. She knows that Lucifer had had to kill Uriel to protect them all… and she remembers the aftermath. A dead-eyed Lucifer, hell-bent on punishing himself one way or another—acting out to make her send him away, then appearing and taunting a sniper in order to be shot, killed… and she has her answer. Lucifer could never bear killing another sibling, no matter the cost to himself. He had only killed Uriel because he had no other choice, not with three of the people Lucifer cared about most being threatened.</p><p>“It’s okay, Lucifer,” she whispers, “I understand why you couldn’t… just… wake up, please?” She squeezes his hand, and her heart leaps as his fingers flutter in hers. “Lucifer? Come on, come back to me.”</p><p>His head twitches toward the sound of her voice, and her breath catches in in a small sob as his hand tightens on hers. She leans forward, pressing her lips to his forehead, her hair falling around them in a curtain, effectively sealing them off from the rest of the world. She brings her right hand up to his neck and rests her fingertips against the steadily thrumming pulse point, murmuring to him all the while, guiding him home.</p><p>The wait seems interminable, but it’s only a few moments before his eyelids flicker. Slowly they crack open, revealing crescents of his dark irises before fluttering closed again. Chloe pulls back a little, the better to see his entire face. His color still isn’t normal, but it’s improving all the time. She gently brushes her fingers over the angry slash on his shoulder, the thinner red line along his ribs. Both are red and inflamed-looking—worse than the axe-wound had looked, but not quite as bad as the tiny, jagged wound on his hand had been at its worst. Now that his heart is pumping again, they’ve started to ooze a small amount of blood, but with the divine-inspired healing in place the volume is negligible. Chloe makes a mental note to find either some towels, or some gauze pads to properly dress them later.</p><p>“—tec—?" His lips move, nearly silently.</p><p>“Hey,” she murmurs, fighting down a hysterical giggle of relief. “Hey, Lucifer. Hi, you’re safe. You’re here. You’re back on Earth and you’re alive and you’re injured, but you’re gonna be fine, okay? You’re going to heal up and we are going to seriously kick Michael in the—”</p><p>“Michael??” His eyes fly open and he tries to bolt upright, before falling back with an agonized cry, followed by a softer one as his ravaged back makes contact again with the sheets beneath him.</p><p>“Easy,” Chloe squeezes his hand, planting her other on his forehead, trickling her fingers through his disheveled hair. His wide eyes are fixed on her face, and she knows she’s blotchy from crying, and grinning like an idiot, but she doesn’t care. “Easy, Lucifer, you’re injured. You’ve got some healing to do before you can move that fast, okay? But you’re back now, and you’ll be fine. I’m so glad you’re back. I… I don’t know what I… I’m just. I’m so glad you’re back.”</p><p>“Back?” His voice is barely a whisper, but his thumb moves to gently stroke her hand in his.</p><p>“Yeah,” she looses a shaky sigh and a few more tears dash unheeded down her cheeks. “Yeah, you’re back now, so… so we need to figure out a way to keep you here, because… because I can’t handle losing you again, you hear me Lucifer Morningstar?”</p><p>His only response is a small quirk at the corner of his lips and a gentle tightening of his fingers before his eyelids slide shut again with a heavy sigh. His grip goes slack and her heart skips until she sees that he’s still breathing—he’s only fallen asleep.</p><p>Fast on the heels of relief comes exhaustion. She’s passed the 24-hour mark of being awake and stressed several hours ago, and she’s never been so glad to have Trixie spending the weekend with a friend. She makes a blurry mental note to find Dan’s phone in his belongings so he has a method of communication… backup with Trixie is something she’s sorely missed, though Lucifer has been surprisingly willing to help wherever he’s been able. She looks down at her partner’s sleeping face, at the deep pain lines now etched there—something she’d hoped never to see there again. Her right hand cups his cheek, and even unconscious he leans into her touch.</p><p>Weariness sweeps over her and she catches herself nodding several times before she gives in, nestling into Lucifer’s right side and pillowing her head on his chest, letting the even ebb and flow of his breathing soothe her into sleep.</p><p>*</p><p>Ella arrives at Linda’s mere minutes after Chloe and Dan leave for Lux. Linda fills her in on the happenings so far and the forensic technician breathes a small sigh of relief that they’re so close to having Lucifer back. She sits with Linda and Eve for a little while before pleading fatigue and retreating to her apartment for some much-needed sleep. She makes sure to extract a promise from the ladies to text her with <em>any</em> updates, no matter what time it is and heads home to collapse fully dressed into bed.</p><p>Amenadiel and Dan arrive shortly after Ella’s departure, and the current plan is divulged to the two remaining women. Dan looks faintly queasy after his experience with angel flight, and is quite happy to sit quietly and attempts to calm his jumpy stomach with some hot peppermint tea.</p><p>“If Michael appears at Lux, he’ll be suspicious if we’re all there, so we decided to split up. Dan needs an alibi, so we can’t leave him alone—”</p><p>“—and I don’t have anywhere to <em>go</em>—” Dan adds dryly.</p><p>“So, we decided he and I should come here, while Maze and Arael stay at Lux to defend Lucifer. Arael is going to hole up in one of the rooms nearest the one we’ve placed Lucifer, and Maze will take one of the chambers closer to the tunnel entrance.  Either one of them should be able to hear Michael if he sets so much as a wing into the bar area, and Maze can buy time for Arael to come and assist. Arael will be able to let me know if it comes to a fight, and I can be there in a blink.”</p><p>“What about Chloe?” Eve asks, concerned. “Did she go home? Michael will certainly check with her.”</p><p>“Chloe is asleep, and glued to Lucifer’s side. We went to check in on them after giving her some privacy and found them curled up together on the bed.  We didn’t have the heart to wake her and ask her to leave… not even Maze.”</p><p>“You did the right thing,” Linda gives Amenadiel a warm smile. “Chloe needs that physical closeness right now, and I’m sure it’s comforting for Lucifer, too. Were there any complications bringing him back? How are his… injuries?”</p><p>“They started bleeding again when his heart started back up,” Amenadiel admits frustratedly. “But it’s negligible. If it doesn’t stop by the time they wake, we’ll apply a wrap.”</p><p>Linda winces. She hadn’t seen the injuries herself, but Ella had described them with clinical precision. “How long will it take him to heal?”</p><p>“I’m not really sure,” he sighs. “It’s a celestial blade that made the wounds, those cause a <em>lot</em> of damage. Michael’s never did heal all the way, and he had Raphael tending him closely.”</p><p>“But Lucifer’s have started to heal?” Eve pipes up interestedly.</p><p>“Yes,” Amenadiel replies slowly, considering. “And now that I think about it, that <em>is</em> odd—that Michael’s wound took so long to heal to the point it’s at, but Lucifer’s started healing <em>while he was dead</em>.”</p><p>“What does that mean?” Linda wonders, and Amenadiel can only shake his head, puzzled. She lets the subject go and reverts to the question he avoided. “Okay, so what complications did you run across getting him back, then?”</p><p>“He…” Amenadiel hesitates, then continues. Linda will dig out the answers anyway. “Azrael had to take him to Hell in order for me to retrieve him.” Eve and Linda both pull in appalled gasps as he continues, “He was in his Loop when I found him, and had been for quite a while—maybe as much as a century.”</p><p>Linda closes her eyes, horrified. Eve’s wide eyes peer over her hands covering her mouth. “Did you see what was in his Loop?” Linda asks reluctantly.</p><p>“It wasn’t the same as before,” Amenadiel offers slowly. “What I saw of the frozen loop before Lucifer occupied it, his previous loop involved Uriel and Azrael’s blade. It was bloody, so I assume Luci was stuck in a loop of stabbing Uriel over and over last time. This time it was… other things. I didn’t see the entire sequence, only a couple of scenes before I was able to pull him out of it.”</p><p>“What did you see?” Eve asks quietly.</p><p>“The scenes that I saw… they aren’t what actually happened. When I walked through the door, Lucifer was on the floor, he’d been poisoned and Chloe was standing over him telling him he was worthless, that he should have just gone back to Hell. Once he died, a new scene started up and Cain shot Chloe. Lucifer threw his wings around her and they got shot… a lot. Then he flew her onto a rooftop and Chloe blamed him for allowing her to get close to Cain.” Amenadiel shoots a glance at Eve, whose tearful eyes are fixed on the ground. “I was able to pull him out after that.”</p><p>“Hell uses your worst fears against you, doesn’t it?” Linda tries to shake off the images of Lucifer, poisoned in the hospital bed, of Chloe bleeding out.</p><p>“Hell uses <em>everything</em> against you,” Amenadiel replies grimly, and Linda feels a little chill crawl up her spine. She makes a mental note to start considering how so much time trapped in his Loop might affect her patient’s state of mind, then something occurs to her.</p><p>“Is he going to try to leave again?” She turns wide eyes to him, and his expression tells her everything she needs to know. <em>“Shit.</em> Can we just catch a little break?”</p><p>“We can’t tell Chloe what was in the Loop,” Amenadiel is adamant, making eye contact with both Eve and Linda in turn. “If she wants to know, that needs to come from Luci.” Both women nod in agreement, and Eve takes the opportunity to return to the apartment she and Maze share for the night.</p><p>“Are you sure you’ll be okay there alone?” Linda asks her in concern.</p><p>“I’ll be fine,” Eve smiles as she reaches the doorway. “Michael doesn’t care about me, anything we did together was only about him getting at Lucifer. He’s going to be focused on finding Lucifer’s body, he won’t bother with me.”</p><p>She closes the door softly behind her, and a low snore startles the doctor and the angel. They turn to find Dan has succumbed to exhaustion and stress, nodding in his chair with his teacup dangling dangerously from his loosely hanging hand.</p><p>*</p><p>Mazikeen smiles to herself as she listens to Michael’s roar of impotent fury from the Penthouse level of Lux. He’s already wrecked the entire level as she waited in her own apartment downstairs. Fortunately, she had cleared out everything with real sentimental value for Lucifer long before Michael arrived. She’s itching for a fight, but she knows she can’t pick this one… yet. If he comes to her, then it’s on, but she can’t risk Lucifer by starting it herself. Not until she’s had a chance to make her <em>stupid, human</em> amends.</p><p>She needs to make sure this plan is successful, she thinks it will go a long way toward earning her forgiveness from both Chloe <em>and</em> Lucifer, and maybe even Trixie. So she waits, flicking her blades silently as she listens to see if it will occur to Michael to try the next level down. A final crash of glass then silence as she sags, disappointed. She considers going back downstairs, but decides to wait awhile. If Michael is downstairs, he’s trashing the club as well, and Arael will certainly hear him. Amenadiel is standing backup in case he’s needed, so Maze isn’t too concerned at the moment.</p><p>After about an hour, Maze ventures up the stairs to the Penthouse and takes in the destruction. Lucifer’s prized piano is nothing but a gutted mass of shiny splinters, ivory keys, and wire. The liquor shelves are shattered, alcohol still dripping in light rivulets down the cabinets below into an ever-spreading pool on the marble floor, which has been gouged—presumably with Michael’s feathers, though she supposes it’s possible he used his sword. The Assyrian stone walls have been cracked and pulverized in places, and the other furniture has been methodically upturned and irreparably damaged. Not even the hideous clown mermaid painting has been spared—the canvas slashed and ripped.</p><p><em>Well, that’s one good thing out of this mess.</em> Maze thinks to herself. She doesn’t penetrate any further into the apartment, knowing the devastation will be thoroughly completed. She makes a note to contact Lucifer’s usual repair company to get here as soon as possible to start work. And replace the piano. She glances at the sad remains of the beautifully cared-for instrument and feels a twinge of regret at its loss.</p><p>Only after she’s turned away and entered the elevator did that feeling really register with her, and she shakes her head, snorting at herself in disgust. <em>Emotions over a damned </em>piano<em>. What the Hell is happening here?</em></p><p>She exits the lift on the Lux level, to find the bar completely intact. At least this level escaped Michael’s little temper tantrum… for now. She inhales deeply, testing for any foreign scents—watching out for Michael—but nothing unfamiliar presents itself to her canny senses. She helps herself to a glass of gin before retiring to the hidden corridor of rooms, speaking softly and knowing Arael can hear her.</p><p>“Michael trashed the penthouse level, then left. He seemed a bit frustrated.” She registers Arael’s soft snort of amusement at her obvious understatement from several rooms down the hall, and smirks to herself. “I don’t think he’ll be back tonight, but I should hear him if he stops on this level at all.”</p><p>“Thank you, Mazikeen,” Arael’s murmur echoes down the hall to her. “I will keep vigil until you are rested.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. You Need to Think Again.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lucifer drifts into consciousness on a lazy tide of pain. His left side is a burning mass of discomfort, from his shoulder to his side, to his back. While his back also hurts on his right side, there’s a warm, pleasant weight on that side that soothes his muddled thoughts, so he continues to float—neither waking nor sleeping but suspended somewhere between.</p><p><em>Like Limbo?</em> His wry internal voice snarks. <em>You remember Limbo, yes?  And being dead?</em></p><p>He doesn’t stiffen, he’s not yet awake enough for his body to respond to his mind’s realizations. He <em>does</em> remember being dead. He remembers Limbo, and listening to the thousands of souls there, helping them determine their final destinations and free themselves of that vast, empty nothingness. He remembers having calm conversations with Cain while he was waiting for… for what, exactly? It doesn’t come to him right away, but he’s too tired to chase after it.</p><p><em>Where am I now?</em> He wonders idly. <em>What comes after death, and Limbo? Nothing hurt in Limbo, but here it does. Am I in Hell? Did I decide I belong there after all? </em>But the warmth all along his right side is reassuring, and that has no place in Hell. He pulls in a deep breath through his nose, sorting through the scents of blood, musty underground, and a floral scent he would know anywhere. His head tilts slightly to the right and he manages to crack open an eyelid. The light here is blissfully dim, and his eyesight is clouded. He can make out a mass of tawny hair pressed against his shoulder and he suddenly recognizes the contented thrumming in his chest that he associates with having Chloe nearby.</p><p>
  <em>Chloe.</em>
</p><p>Things start to fall into place at the realization. He must be back on Earth. Azrael took him to Hell so Amenadiel could retrieve him and bring him back. But his Loop… his Loop was new this time. He wasn’t apologetically murdering Uriel again and again—he’d been prepared for that. This time was different. His friends, his Detective… his new Loop was full of their accusing words and stares. Miss Lopez sobbing about how he’d destroyed her faith, Dan wrathfully screaming about his ruined life. Tiny Beatrice’s tear-filled eyes, asking why he had returned, only to land her father in prison and destroy her relationship with her mother. And Chloe… always Chloe. Apathetically watching him suffer, or suffering herself. <em>“You’re right, you aren’t worth it. Why did you let me choose Cain? You lied to me for so long, I can’t trust you.”</em></p><p><em>None of those things are real,</em> he tells himself, trying to focus on the soft body curled against him. <em>She wouldn’t be here if she felt that way, she would do the sensible thing and walk away.</em></p><p><em>They might not be real </em>now<em>, </em>another voice manifests, and it sounds like Michael. <em>But all it will take is just the right little nudge for them to become reality.</em></p><p>His mind starts to spin as he considers all the ways these situations could play out, how easily his fragile happiness could be leveled with just the wrong word, the wrong action at the wrong time. <em>How many disasters will be too many? What will be the straw that sends it all tumbling down?</em></p><p>A choked whimper wriggles its way from his throat, and Chloe stirs, her right hand instinctively pressing against his chest, over his rapidly beating heart.</p><p>“Lucifer?” she croaks, licking her lips as she lifts her head from his shoulder. “Are you awake?” Her face slides into his narrow field of vision, and his focus sharpens, taking in the dark circles under her bleary eyes, the red mark where her cheek was pressed against him. He can’t answer. He can’t even open his eyes further than the slit he’s managed so far, but she knows that he’s there with her. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe. Amenadiel said the blood loss could take some time to replenish.” Her eyes drift off to his left, assessing the wounds there. “But it looks like the bleeding has stopped, so hopefully you’ll be feeling more like yourself soon.” Her eyes seek his again, and hold them. He reads the relief in hers, and she finds the barely-restrained panic in his.</p><p>“Okay,” she whispers soothingly, “Something’s got you upset, but you’ve got to rest for now so you can get your strength back. We’ve got you hidden somewhere Michael isn’t likely to look, and Maze, Arael, and Amenadiel are nearby if we need them. Everyone is as safe as we can be. I know… Amenadiel told us he had to pull you out of your Loop down there. He said it wasn’t the same as last time, but he said I was in it.” Lucifer wishes he could avert his eyes, so he doesn’t have to witness the pain in hers. “He wouldn’t tell me what was going on, he said I’d have to ask you, but I have some guesses. Lucifer, whatever it was… I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, and I don’t ever want to hurt you again. I’m not running, and I’m not giving you up. I love you. I want you here with me, with <em>all of us</em>, where you belong. Okay?” Her slate-blue eyes brim with tears, and he watches as one spills over, sliding slowly down her flushed cheek.</p><p><em>You see?</em> Says another voice in his head, this one sounding a lot like Linda. <em>She’s not running, she’s not giving up. She’s here, fighting for you just as you have for her. Have a little faith in her. In </em>them.</p><p>The light near his heart flares as she leans in and presses her lips to his forehead, her hand gently stroking his hair and his eyes finally slide closed. Chloe’s hand finds his and he manages to give a feeble squeeze before he goes back to drifting, assured that the situation will hold for now.</p><p>*</p><p>Arael wanders in some time later with some food. He’s unsurprised to find Chloe curled next to his brother on the bed, watching him intently.</p><p>“You should take a break,” he suggests gently, suppressing a smile when her head shakes in immediate reflex. “We don’t know how long his recovery will take, Chloe. You should get some fresh air.”</p><p>“He’s been awake once already,” her eyes flicker to him and back again quickly, afraid to miss any minute change. “Something was wrong. He couldn’t talk or move, but his eyes… I haven’t ever seen him <em>afraid</em>. If he wakes again and he’s alone…”</p><p>“I can wait with him while you see to your own comforts, Detective.” His lightly teasing tone takes the sting out of his use of Lucifer’s nickname for her. “The penthouse has been destroyed, but Mazikeen has informed me that there is a chamber nearby equipped with a shower, and you should eat as well.” He holds up the grease-stained bag. “Mazikeen brought this, she insists that it’s your favorite?”</p><p>Chloe sits up slowly, her stomach growling ferociously at the sight of her favorite burger place’s logo on the bag. <em>When did I eat last?</em> She tries to think. Breakfast, yesterday… before she realized Lucifer was missing. She’d had a toasted egg sandwich, then was too busy to even consider food. Lucifer was always the one that made sure she took time out to eat when she got swept up in whatever she was doing… without him around, or Trixie to take care of, she rarely remembers to eat when she’s thinking about something else.</p><p><em>Trixie.</em> No, it’s Saturday. She’ll be at the Edwards’ until tomorrow morning… but Chloe makes a mental note to check in with her today and make sure all is well. She’ll need to go up to the club level for that, at least, since there’s no cell service down here. She glances at her phone… not quite noon.</p><p>“I do need to check on my daughter… and some food is probably a good idea.” Her stomach gurgles again, seconding that opinion. “Please, Arael, if you would stay with him? If he wakes, make sure he knows I’m close, and I’ll be back as soon as I can? If I was in his Loop… I… please just make sure he knows I’m coming back.”</p><p>“Of course,” Arael assures her. “I’ll remind him that he should be able to feel your proximity through your link, as well… that should assuage any fears of you having left. Take all the time you need.”</p><p>Chloe decides half an hour should be plenty of time as she presses a kiss to Lucifer’s cheek, grabs her bag with a nod of thanks and strides quickly down the dimly lit hallway toward Lux. Her phone beeps as she reaches service again, then continues to beep as alert after alert sounds off. She settles into one of the booths with her bag, pulling out a sweating bottle of water and a still-warm cheeseburger. She digs for the fries she knows will be there and pulls them out, slightly soggy but still delicious. She scrolls through her texts as she wolfs down her meal, interspersed with gulps of water. She responds to Trixie’s check-ins immediately, fires off a quick ‘tell-you-when-I-see-you’ text to Ella and Linda in response to their requests for updates on whether she had “heard from” Lucifer, and sends a placating text to her mother, who had been passed over for a part that had been written for someone 20 years younger.</p><p>She’s just finishing her meal when an oily voice emerges from the shadows cloaking the unlit balcony.</p><p>“Well, <em>Detective,</em>” Michael steps slowly up to the railing and leans his elbows casually upon it as though he owns the place. “What brings you here? Looking for my loser brother? Or do you already <em>know</em> where he is?”</p><p>“I’m waiting for Ella and Amenadiel,” Chloe lies easily, knowing Arael will hear the conversation and request Amenadiel’s presence. “She asked us to meet her here because they got a tip last night about a body that matched a giant blood pool in an alleyway from yesterday morning.  Would <em>you</em> know anything about that?”</p><p>“Whatever are you insinuating, <em>Detective?”</em> Chloe’s stomach lurches at Michael’s use of her title, but she keeps her face placid.</p><p>“I <em>know</em> you killed him,” she growls. Her mind flies as it comes up with options for misdirecting the archangel. “And I’m sure it’s driving you crazy that he didn’t go straight to Hell, and you can’t find him in Heaven. Where did you hide his body, Michael? We’re going to get him back one way or another… maybe if you help us, Lucifer will have some mercy on you.”</p><p>Michael’s laughter is deep and unhinged, nothing at all like Lucifer’s typical light chuckle. “Do you really expect me to believe that you don’t know where he is?”</p><p>“If I knew, would I really be stooping to ask <em>you</em>?” her voice drips with unfeigned disdain. “Do you think I’d be here, waiting for Ella and Amenadiel to start yet another brainstorming session? Do you think I would be <em>anywhere</em> other than right by his side? <em>You killed him</em>. You <em>stole him from me. </em>If you think that Lucifer is the one you should be worried about in this situation, you need to <em>think again.</em>”</p><p>Michael’s dark eyes shine in the dim lights as he gazes down at her, and she doesn’t let her eyes stray from his, projecting truth into every syllable. “Do you know <em>anything</em> about love, Michael?” she asks quietly, “Anything at all? Do you know what losing him means to me? We’ve risked death for each other. We’ve <em>killed</em> to protect one another. We’ve run from and chased after each other. We’ve talked, and yelled, and cried, and betrayed, and supported one another. That forges a link that even death can’t break. We’re getting him back, and <em>you</em>…” she sneers up at him, eyes boring into his as she feels her Link blaze to life in her chest. “You’re going to regret every single step you’ve taken on this ill-chosen path of yours.”</p><p>The elevator chimes as Michael takes an involuntary half-step back from the railing, Chloe’s eyes briefly flaring red as she speaks her final words.</p><p>“Chloe?” Amenadiel’s rich voice emerges from the parting doors. <em>“Michael.”</em></p><p>“Brother,” Michael greets absently, eyes not leaving the human woman glaring up at him. “The <em>Detective</em> here was just educating me on the finer points of human emotion.”</p><p>“Humans are good at those,” Amenadiel replies dryly, “Many angels could learn from humans about emotions.”</p><p>“I’m sure they’ve managed to teach <em>you </em>a thing or two, Amenadiel.” Michael scoffs at the idea of learning <em>anything</em> from these pitiful creatures, but he reluctantly admits to himself that this miracle has managed to unnerve him just a little. He carefully pulls his eyes away from Chloe, and glares at his brother. “Nice move, by the way… trying to get the Host on your side by parading around Lucifer’s wounded body. You <em>do</em> realize it’s of no use to you if you can’t locate his soul, don’t you?”</p><p>“I’m aware,” Amenadiel deadpans, and Chloe feels a surge of gratitude that Arael has obviously relayed the details of their conversation to him. “One hurdle at a time, Michael.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Michael agrees thoughtfully, before sighing. “Well. As <em>enlightening</em> as this little chat has been, I’m afraid I have somewhere to be. I’ll sure we’ll be seeing each other again soon, <em>Detective.”</em> He steps back into the enveloping shadows and disappears with a whisper of ragged feathers.</p><p>“Thanks for coming, Amenadiel,” Chloe begins, as the angel makes his way down the curving staircase to the club level. He stops in front of her, just a shade too close, and she cranes her neck back to meet his gaze. “What?”</p><p>“Your… your eyes were glowing when I came in.” Amenadiel tells her quietly.</p><p>“They—what?”</p><p>“Your eyes,” he confirms, searching the depths of them—for what, Chloe doesn’t know. “they were glowing red when I stepped off the elevator. Dan, did you see?”</p><p>Dan’s pale face appears above the railing, and he swallows nervously, nodding once. He trails down the stairs slowly, paying close attention to where he places his feet. Chloe simply gapes at Amenadiel.</p><p>“They were glowing red. Like—?"</p><p>“You were talking about Michael regretting his path—getting his punishment.” Amenadiel nods, as though it makes perfect sense to him. “I saw it before, Chloe, at the hospital when Lucifer was… sick. I didn’t quite believe it then, it was just a flicker—but I remember telling you that you both were punishers at heart.”</p><p>“Wow…” she trails off, trying to think what <em>this</em> will mean. “I suppose that’s something to think about later. I… need to get back to Lucifer, I left him with Arael—”</p><p>“Yes, he let me know that he’s awake again, and—” Amenadiel watches, amused, as Chloe doesn’t even let him finish his sentence, merely turns and bolts for the hidden corridor.</p><p>*</p><p>It takes a moment for Arael to register that Lucifer’s eyes have just barely slitted open.</p><p>“Well, brother,” he smiles, “Welcome back again. Your Detective has finally been persuaded to take a little break and actually feed herself.” A tiny twitch at the corner of Lucifer’s mouth tells Arael that he knows how difficult a task that was. Arael moves closer to the bedside, speaking softly. “She wanted me to reassure you that she’s not gone far, and that she’ll be returning to you as soon as I’ll allow her back through the door.”</p><p>“Stubborn,” Lucifer huffs quietly, and Arael chuckles.</p><p>“Yes, I’ve noticed that the two of you share many personality traits.” Lucifer lifts an eyebrow slightly at that, but doesn’t waste energy arguing against the truth. “She’s worried about you.”</p><p>“Yes,” Lucifer’s eyes close and he swallows thickly.</p><p>“You don’t think she should be.” He isn’t asking a question, merely stating the fact. “Because you think she’s not safe?  Or because you think you aren’t worth being concerned over?”</p><p>Lucifer doesn’t answer, but his eyes open again, glaring at his brother.</p><p>“Both, then.” Arael nods and sits on the bed beside his estranged sibling. “You’re letting Michael get inside your head, brother. You know better than that. Chloe is a remarkable human—the loyalty I’ve seen her display toward you has been unwavering. I know you have a history together that’s a bit tarnished in spots, but… well, unfortunately that’s true of all relationships. Don’t let fear and doubt push you into actions you’ll regret for the rest of eternity.”</p><p>Lucifer’s glare remains steadily fixed on his brother, and Arael laughs softly. “You can still feel it, can’t you?  Your Link?” The glare softens a bit, and Arael nods. “Of course you can. Chloe told us about it—that it exists because you share your divinity, and that it only developed because <em>both</em> of you willed it into being. She will fight you if you try to convince her to give it up. I would advise you not to pick that fight, because even <em>I</em> can see how you both feel. It will only cause much pain, and it’s a fight that—<em>if</em> you win, you will wish you had lost because the victory will only result in misery for both of you.”</p><p>Lucifer heaves a sigh, then tenses.</p><p>“Well, <em>Detective,</em>” Michael’s obsequious voice echoes faintly in their ears. “What brings you here? Looking for my loser brother? Or do you already <em>know</em> where he is?”  Arael lays a hand on Lucifer’s chest, effectively restraining his feeble attempt to move.</p><p>“I’m waiting for Ella and Amenadiel,” Lucifer smirks at Chloe’s nonchalant tone, but his eyes are on his brother, whose finger is pressed to his lips in a request for silence. Lucifer manages a faint nod, recognizing his helplessness, and Arael lifts his hand. He presses his palms together and sends a message to Amenadiel that he may be needed, passing along the conversation as Chloe continues. “She asked us to meet her here because they got a tip last night about a body that matched a giant blood pool in an alleyway from yesterday morning.  Would <em>you</em> know anything about that?”</p><p>“Whatever are you insinuating, <em>Detective?”</em> Michael's voice rings with feigned innocence. Lucifer growls quietly, and Arael lifts an eyebrow at him in silent admonishment.</p><p>“I <em>know</em> you killed him,” Chloe growls. And Arael again is struck at their synchronicity. “And I’m sure it’s driving you crazy that he didn’t go straight to Hell, and you can’t find him in Heaven. Where did you hide his body, Michael? We’re going to get him back one way or another… maybe if you help us, Lucifer will have some mercy on you.”</p><p>Lucifer snorts as Michael’s laughter peals. “Do you really expect me to believe that you don’t know where he is?”</p><p>“If I knew, would I really be stooping to ask <em>you</em>?” Hatred colors her tone, and Lucifer looks as though he’s considering trying to get up again. “Do you think I’d be here, waiting for Ella and Amenadiel to start yet another brainstorming session? That I would be <em>anywhere</em> other than right by his side? <em>You killed him</em>. You <em>stole him from me. </em>If you think that Lucifer is the one you should be worried about in this situation, you need to <em>think again. </em>Do you know <em>anything</em> about love, Michael?” Arael feels Lucifer stiffen beside him. “Anything at all? Do you know what losing him means to me? We’ve risked death for each other. We’ve <em>killed</em> to protect one another. We’ve run from and chased after each other. We’ve talked, and yelled, and cried, and betrayed, and supported one another. That forges a link that even death can’t break. We’re getting him back, and <em>you</em>…” Lucifer feels their Link flare brightly, and his eyes glow with pride at her daring. “You’re going to regret every single step you’ve taken on this ill-chosen path of yours.”</p><p>The elevator chimes, and Amenadiel enters.</p><p>“Chloe? <em>Michael.”</em></p><p>“Brother,” Michael’s distracted voice acknowledges his eldest sibling. “The <em>Detective</em> here was just educating me on the finer points of human emotion.” Lucifer growls again, but doesn’t try to move.</p><p>“Humans are good at those. Many angels could learn from humans about emotions.”</p><p>“I’m sure they’ve managed to teach <em>you </em>a thing or two, Amenadiel.” Michael jeers. “Nice move, by the way… trying to get the Host on your side by parading around Lucifer’s wounded body. You <em>do</em> realize it’s of no use to you if you can’t locate his soul, don’t you?”</p><p>“I’m aware. One hurdle at a time, Michael.” Lucifer’s eyes dart back to Arael, and he shakes his head, mouthing <em>‘Later.’</em></p><p>“Indeed,” Michael agrees, then sighs. “Well. As <em>enlightening</em> as this little chat has been, I’m afraid I have somewhere to be. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again soon, <em>Detective.”</em></p><p>“Thanks for coming, Amenadiel,” Chloe begins, then, concerned, “What?”</p><p>The next words are too indistinct to make out, but then, “Dan, did you see?”</p><p>More muddled conversation, then running footsteps echoing down the hall toward them.</p><p>*</p><p>Amenadiel and Dan follow Chloe at a slower pace, but Maze intercepts them at the entrance to the room she’s adopted as hers while she’s keeping watch.</p><p>“Where the Hell were <em>you</em>?” Dan sputters as Maze steps out the door, then quails at her shark-like smile.</p><p>“Following the plan, <em>Daaaaaaaan.”</em> She drawls lazily. “Michael’s sniffing around trying to find Lucifer’s body. If he finds a bunch of us here he’s gonna figure it out, he’s not completely stupid. He already trashed the penthouse, now he’s checked Lux level and found Chloe, and now you two. He’s gonna be suspicious.”</p><p>“Mazikeen is right,” Arael agreed, striding down the hallway toward them. “It’s best if Michael doesn’t know how many guardians Lucifer has.”</p><p>“Okay,” Dan swallows anxiously, “So what <em>is</em> the plan, then?”</p><p>Maze and Arael exchange glances, and he nods toward her doorway, making an expansive, ‘after you’ gesture.</p><p>“Okay Dan,” Mazikeen’s grin widens. “You and I have some amends to make, yeah?  Well, this is how we start.” She leads the way into the room, and they begin to collaborate.</p><p>*</p><p>Chloe hurls herself through the doorway, stopping short when she sees that Lucifer is all right.</p><p>“I did say that I’d tell him you were nearby,” Arael’s tone is mild, but his eyes are amused.</p><p>“Michael—”</p><p>“Yes,” Arael agrees, nodding. “We heard. You did well, thinking on your feet to keep him misdirected.”</p><p>Chloe’s eyes seek Lucifer’s, and she feels a wash of relief when he meets her gaze without flinching.</p><p>“Clever, Detective.” He croaks, and turns his hand palm up in an economical invitation to sit. Arael stands, and makes an excuse to go speak with the others.</p><p>“How are you feeling?” One of her hands traces along his cheek and he leans into her touch.</p><p>“Like I still bloody <em>hate</em> that question,” he sighs, and she doesn’t even try to stifle her laugh.</p><p>“Seems like your resting is working, if you’re feeling well enough to complain about wellness checks.” She sits close beside him, hip to hip. “Are <em>we </em>okay?”</p><p>“I certainly hope not,” her heart has a moment to stop before he continues, “I thought we were incredible last time we were together… why on Earth would we be just okay now? How long have I been—?”</p><p>She doesn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence, cutting him off by swooping down and kissing him, hard. He makes an appreciative noise in his throat and she pulls back to whisper, “Dammit, Lucifer, that’s not what I meant, and you <em>know it.</em>”</p><p>He lifts his right hand slowly, and threads weak fingers clumsily into her hair. Her left hand moves to cover it, holding it in place. “You and I have never been merely <em>okay</em>, Detective,” he murmurs, “I heard you before, when I woke the first time. Thank you for… for <em>seeing</em> me so clearly, darling. Your reassurances helped immensely.”</p><p>“How long were you there?”</p><p>“It’s really impossible to say. Time goes faster in Hell, but in the Loops it’s even more compressed. I’m here <em>now</em>, that’s what is important.” She turns her face into his palm, tears in her eyes.</p><p>“Amenadiel said I was in your Loop.” Chloe ventures tentatively. “He said… he said Hell uses <em>everything</em> against you. Will you tell me?”</p><p>He hesitates, strangely reluctant to share his personal Hell. “It’s nothing pleasant, Detective, but…”</p><p>“If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay,” she reassures him, squeezing the hand she still holds to her face. “I only… if I was in it, I want to be able to help fight whatever it tried to do to you.”</p><p>A shudder runs through him, and she moves to lay next to him, wrapping an arm around his still-too-cool body. His right arm curls comfortingly over the small of her back, and with a sigh he begins to speak.</p><p><em>“You</em> helped me accept that what others have done to manipulate my actions aren’t my fault. So when Michael killed me, I didn’t have any guilt to drag me to Hell, but I also couldn’t go to Heaven. When Azrael takes a soul to Hell, they automatically go into a Loop, unless there’s nothing strong enough to manifest one for them. In my case, while I didn’t have any guilt, I had plenty of… let’s call them insecurities… that Hell could play with. It wasn’t <em>only</em> you in there with me, darling. Miss Lopez, your Offspring, even Daniel had parts to play—all my fault, you see. I destroyed Miss Lopez’s faith by merely existing, I ruined Daniel’s life and career, I broke the Urchin’s relationships with both you <em>and</em> Daniel.”</p><p>“But that’s not…” she starts to argue, when he continues quietly.</p><p>“And you… I’ve hurt you so much, Detective. I know you feel that I lied to you about my identity—”</p><p>“You never did!”</p><p>“And I let you involve yourself with that overstuffed man-ham—”</p><p>“You tried to tell me—”</p><p>“And I’ve let you down more times than I care to remember,” he finishes sadly. She presses a kiss to his bare shoulder as he goes on. “When Amenadiel came, he… reminded me that it wasn’t real—that none of it was real. And yet…”</p><p>“You were thinking about running,” she observes quietly. “When you woke up, that’s why you looked so spooked, wasn’t it?”</p><p>“I would never,” he sounds scandalized. “I <em>promised</em>, no more running. I will admit that I had hoped to convince you that I’m simply too dangerous to have in your life.” Her arm tightens around him and he smiles at her, pressing his cool lips to her forehead. “But you saw right through me. You gave me everything I needed to hear, without my even having to say a word. Then Arael had to butt his long nose in and remind me that while I could fight, I certainly couldn’t win. That if I <em>did</em> win, we both would still lose. And then I heard what you said to my rat bastard twin… and you were right.”</p><p>“As easy as that?” she teases lightly.</p><p>“I may or may not have had Linda’s voice in my head telling me that if I made yet another stupid mistake with you, she would charge me quadruple for the rest of eternity.” He feels her shake with silent laughter against him, and the pair of them fall into sleep as he relaxes into her warmth.</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. I May Have An Idea.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Amenadiel leaves Dan with Maze and Arael and reluctantly goes to visit Raphael after stopping at Arael’s apothecary cabinet for a tithe. He knows the only way to get consideration from his crotchety sibling is to come bearing useful gifts and an interesting question to ponder. He already has the latter, and Arael willingly provides the former. He taps politely on the door and waits patiently for a response, but the ferocity of the response he receives takes him aback.</p><p><em>“What!?” </em>The Healer roars, throwing open the door fiercely. “Why are you all so insistent on <em>bothering me??”</em></p><p>“Are you all right, brother?” Amenadiel asks concernedly. “I haven’t seen you this upset since the time Arael and Luci—”</p><p>“Father help me, Amenadiel, if you bring up the experimental plant debacle right now I will break your nose,” Raphael growls, and Amenadiel obediently lapses into silence. He holds out the vials of potions Arael had offered as Raphael’s price to be heard.</p><p>“I come with a question, and some potions that Arael assures me you will find useful.” He watches Raphael’s face flicker with his conflict: Does he want the distraction of the question with the gift, or does he just want peace?</p><p>Finally, the Healer steps back, allowing Amenadiel to scurry inside. “Fine. But this better not be about the fallen one again. I’ve heard <em>quite enough</em> about him lately to last a thousand lifetimes. Oh, that reminds me, I was supposed to let Michael know if I heard from you…” He muses that last as though to himself.</p><p>“Would you mind waiting until after our conversation to contact him, Raphael?  My question actually pertains to him, and I’d rather we have time to discuss it properly before we get interrupted.”</p><p>“You came to talk about Michael?” Amenadiel hides a smile. He knows that tone, Raphael is intrigued.</p><p>“Indeed,” Amenadiel confirms solemnly. “I wanted to ask you about his injury, and what other effects it may have had on him.”</p><p>“The injury from the Flaming Sword, I presume? Nasty weapon, that, but at least we’re rid of it now.” Raphael paces his study slowly as he considers. “Imagine the nerve of that… <em>primate</em>, not only stealing the weapon from Aziraphale of the Gate, but to attack the Sword of God with it! Wing wounds are nothing to sneeze at, you know—wings are the conduit for our divinity, so wing wounds result in soul damage.”</p><p>“Yes, I recall your very thorough lessons on wing care quite well, brother,” Amenadiel lays on the flattery thickly and hides his amusement as the Healer preens at the compliment. Raphael isn’t so hard to manage, as long as you’re patient and profuse with praise. “I had a thought that occurred to me—if wing damage equates to soul damage, and <em>Michael’s</em> wing damage was inflicted with a soul-eating blade… would that have a lasting effect on him?”</p><p>This had actually been Arael’s observation after hearing Lucifer’s story of his fall and his extended healing trapped in Hell, away from the healing divine light. Amenadiel had felt truly stupid for never considering it before. He hoped that Raphael would have some insight into the theory.</p><p>“A soul-eating blade?” Raphael repeats, puzzled.</p><p>“Yes, the Flaming Sword?” Amenadiel prompts. “After Lucifer’s, er, rebellion, Father dismantled it, and gave the blade to Azrael. It… obliterates souls?”</p><p>“Of course <em>Azrael’s</em> blade destroys souls—are you telling me that the flaming sword that was used to injure Michael is the same sword as Azrael’s blade?” Color is draining from his face as he connects some dots, and Amenadiel is eager to know what’s inside his head.</p><p>“Did… did no one ever tell you that?” Amenadiel knew Raphael never paid the slightest heed to weapons training, but he didn’t realize Raphael’s ignorance about the most infamous weapon ever created would be so glaring.  Apparently, neither had Raphael.</p><p>“Why would I care about a celestial blade?” Raphael scoffs, but Amenadiel can hear the deep concern hiding under the bravado. “I thought it was just a fancier version, to scare off any potential incursions, since Aziraphale was so useless with it.”</p><p>“Well, it was certainly a fancier version,” Amenadiel admits. “But when Aziraphale was assigned on Earth as a Principality, the blade was dismantled and reassigned to Azrael, minus the flaming bit. You’ve clearly had an idea, Raphael, will you share it with me?”</p><p>“I…” the Healer’s face is stark white now, and Amenadiel guides him to a low stool to sit before he falls over. “I had no idea that they were the same blade. This explains so much—why I had to force it to Heal, why… <em>Oh.”</em></p><p>“Why what, brother?”</p><p>“You’re <em>certain</em> they’re the same blade?” He asks, hopelessly looking up at his brother.</p><p>“Very,” Amenadiel confirms. “It took Luci and I months to track down all the puzzle pieces to reassemble it so Luci could send Mom to an empty universe and avert the war she wanted to start with Father.”</p><p>“I had to… I had to <em>force</em> the wound to scar over, it wanted to remain open, but he was losing so much blood that I…” Raphael trails off. “And then it didn’t…”</p><p>“Didn’t what?” Amenadiel presses. “You’re not making any sense, Raphael.”</p><p>His brother’s eyes snap up, affronted. “I’m only just putting this together for myself, Amenadiel, do give me a <em>moment</em> to think it through before you accuse me of speaking nonsense.”</p><p>“My apologies, Healer,” Amenadiel bows his head shallowly, giving his crabby brother some time to work through this new information. “Perhaps if you talk through it aloud, it will start to make sense to both of us?”</p><p>Raphael slides an annoyed glare in his direction, but is mollified by the formal apology. “Our wings are our conduit to divinity. When our wings our injured it’s not just the physical injury, but one to our souls as well—the soul bleeds from the injured wing. Over time, typically, as the wound heals, the soul replenishes and the angel is restored in entirety. Michael’s wound was different, and… and now I understand <em>why</em>. I thought it was merely the severity of the wound. I forced it to close… but I didn’t realize that his soul wasn’t only bleeding, but had been partially <em>consumed by the blade</em>.”</p><p>“So… you’re saying that Michael has been soulless… for <em>millennia</em>? And no one noticed??” Amenadiel is aghast at the ramifications, even if the idea had been tickling at his thoughts as a reason for Michael’s inexplicable behaviour.</p><p>“Not <em>soulless</em>,” Raphael barks, offended. “But… definitely soul-light. Soul-damaged.”</p><p>“Is it… now that we <em>know</em>, can it be fixed?”</p><p>“I don’t… the healing I put in place will block the regeneration. I <em>knew</em> that when I forced the healing, but I didn’t realize…”</p><p>“You didn’t know he was missing so much.”</p><p>“I didn’t.” Amenadiel is surprised to see tears pooling in the Healer’s eyes. “I <em>swear</em> I didn’t, Amenadiel.”</p><p>“Raphael…” Amendiel ventures tentatively. “I may have an idea. It’s going to sound crazy, but hear me out.”</p><p>*</p><p>Lucifer awakens to find Amenadiel smirking down at them, with Dan standing awkwardly not far behind.</p><p>“Amenadiel,” Lucifer greets him quietly. “If you say one word that indicates in any way that you think we’re adorable, I’m going to instruct my staff to never allow you another Cosmo.”</p><p>Amenadiel’s smirk broadens, but he says only, “Welcome home, Luci. It’s good to have you back, brother.”</p><p>Lucifer’s gaze travels past Amenadiel, to the nervous former detective loitering just inside the room. “Hello again, Daniel. I… do hope you’re not going to try to kill me again. I’ve found that I really have no taste for it.”</p><p>“N-no,” he stammers nervously. “Nah, man, I… I screwed up bad. I think—I think I’ve got my head on straight now, and I really—”</p><p>Chloe stirs against Lucifer’s shoulder, and Dan falters into silence. Lucifer glances at his Detective, then looks back at Dan with a careful smile. “I’ll look forward to speaking with you soon then, Daniel, but let’s put it on hold for now and let the Detective get some rest, hm?”</p><p>Dan nods rapidly, relieved to postpone the conversation, and glances at Amenadiel. Lucifer heaves a shallow sigh.</p><p>“Out with it, brother, you’ve clearly got something that needs saying.”</p><p>“I have some interesting information about Michael,” Amenadiel murmurs. “And we wanted to fill you in on the plan we’ve worked out with Maze and Arael. I think it’s a good one.”    </p><p>*</p><p>“It could work,” Chloe observes, from her position tucked into Lucifer’s shoulder. They’ve managed to help him sit up against the headboard. Chloe had insisted that he kept leaning to one side and decided to provide him with some support while they detailed the plan.</p><p>“Are you certain you want to go through with this, Daniel?” Lucifer asks quietly. “It’s certainly not without risk on your part, and you don’t owe <em>me</em> anything.”</p><p>“I need to do this,” Dan squares his jaw, and looks him in the eye for the first time since entering the room. “I’m… trying to put things back the way they were, Lucifer.”</p><p>The corner of Lucifer’s mouth quirks as he recognizes his own words to Dan from years ago, and he nods in acceptance. “I can certainly understand <em>that,</em> Daniel.” His eyes flicker down to Chloe, then wander to his brother. “How long do we think we have?”</p><p>“Probably not long,” Amenadiel admits candidly. “Raphael was going to alert him after I left, and he’ll probably come straight here.”</p><p>Lucifer sighs in frustration. “What time is it?”</p><p>Dan checks his watch. “It’s Sunday morning, 9:30-ish.  Why?”</p><p>“The Urchin is due to come home from her weekend play date this morning.” He looks down at Chloe again. “I… dislike the potential for Beatrice losing her entire family if this plan of ours goes sideways.” Dan’s gaze follows Lucifer’s and his throat works as he swallows hard. Chloe snaps her head up and catches Lucifer’s expression.</p><p>“You are <em>not</em> sending me away.” Her glare is flinty, and her grip on his hand tightens. The idea of being parted from him again so soon is not something she wants to think about right now.</p><p>“Chloe… we’ve got to think of Trixie, too.” Dan wheedles, and her jaw sets stubbornly. “Think about this… if it all goes fine, great—nothing lost. But if it doesn’t… she’s gonna need you.”</p><p>“I can’t… you can’t make me choose between the two of you and Trixie.” Her voice breaks, and she knows it’s not a choice. Trixie needs at least one parent, but… her heart is torn in two.</p><p>“We’re not asking you to make that choice, love,” Lucifer murmurs gently, pulling her close. “We’re asking you to… indulge our request, and to make sure your Spawn stays safe.”</p><p>“I don’t like this plan.”</p><p>“You just said you thought it would work.” Dan argues.</p><p>“That doesn’t mean I have to <em>like it, Dan.”</em></p><p>Amenadiel has been watching the exchange with compassion. “Let’s give them a moment, Dan?” He steps back, gesturing for Dan to precede him out of the room. He leaves with a gentle reminder, “Quickly, Luci.”</p><p>The pair stare at each other for a moment, before they speak together.</p><p>“You’re going.”</p><p>“I’m going.”</p><p>Their gazes lock, their Link flares, and similar sad smiles cross their faces. Lucifer’s words had been a statement, not an order. Chloe’s had been a concession.</p><p>“You’re going to be here when I get back.” Lucifer recognizes an order when he hears one, and his smile widens a little.</p><p>“We will do everything in our collective power to ensure that we are <em>all</em> here when you get back. But you’ll wait to hear from one of us before you return, won’t you.” She nods reluctantly, and he relaxes a little against her. “All right, love, you should be going then. Perhaps… perhaps Arael should go with you, just in case?” His eyes look into the distance as he presses his palms together, and he relaxes a little more. “If he agrees, I’ll feel better knowing you have one of us with you, in case Michael surprises us.”</p><p>Chloe reluctantly pulls away, then leans down to rest her forehead against his. “This isn’t goodbye, Lucifer Morningstar.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t dare suggest that it is, Detective Decker.” His lips capture hers in a gentle kiss, and her fingers tighten in his unruly hair. She presses in closer, deepening the kiss until a shy sound from the doorway makes them pull back, breathless. Chloe’s eyes flicker to Dan standing in the entrance.</p><p>“Uh… Sorry. Arael says he’s ready when you are, Chlo’.” Dan shuffles his feet awkwardly. “I guess I know why he didn’t want to come tell you himself.”</p><p>Lucifer takes her hand and presses a soft kiss to her palm, murmuring, “I love you Chloe, now go take care of your Offspring, hm?”</p><p>She trails her hand along his cheek and he leans toward it as she slowly pulls away. “I love you, too. I’ll… I’ll see you soon. I’ll... see you <em>both</em> soon.” She backs toward the door, keeping her eyes on Lucifer until she reaches Dan, then turns and gives him a quick embrace before bolting out the door.</p><p>Lucifer waits until he can no longer hear her footsteps before speaking. “Well, Daniel. We’ve got some time to fill, so… would you like to have our chat now?</p><p>*</p><p>Dan sits with his back against the far wall, his arms wrapped around his knees and faces the resurrected Devil. Who, admittedly, is <em>also</em> an angel. They eye each other warily.</p><p>“So, I admit that I seem to be a bit behind on developments since my brother killed me,” Lucifer ventures finally. “He told me he was planning to bail you out so he could frame you for my murder once he’d had his fun trying to destroy my friends’ lives… but I confess I wasn’t anticipating finding you numbering among my protectors when I came back.”</p><p>“I’ve, uh, been talking to Linda, er, Dr. Martin,” Dan grasps the back of his head in one hand in a stressed gesture. “About… atonement. Admitting my mistakes and working to make up for them. I’ve got… I’ve got a <em>long</em> list of people to address, man, and you’re—well, I guess you’re probably the one I’ve wronged most, next to Chloe and Trixie.”</p><p>“Ah, of course,” Lucifer nods, as if it all suddenly makes sense now. “You’re looking to follow in dear Charlotte’s footsteps, hopefully without the scenic tour of Hell to start, hm? I’m afraid I don’t have any say in where you end up once you shuffle off this mortal coil, Daniel.”</p><p>“No, man, it’s not like that,” Dan refutes, exasperated, and Lucifer tilts his head, puzzled. “I mean, if I can avoid Hell, and if I can see Charlotte when I die, great. But right now, it’s about making things <em>right</em>. I don’t wanna be the guy that everyone wants to forget about, the one no one talks about after he’s dead. I need… I need to leave something positive behind for my kid to remember me by, and right now I feel like whatever positives I’ve contributed so far have been totally wiped out by the negatives.”</p><p>“You want to be… better.” Lucifer nods, as though to himself. “Dr. Linda is phenomenal with this kind of thing, Daniel. If you want to continue seeing her – or another therapist, if you wish—I will be happy to add your sessions to my billing.”</p><p>“I can’t let you—”</p><p>“Consider it a gift for the Detective and Beatrice, if you’d rather not accept on your own behalf.” Lucifer offers offhandedly. “Dad knows <em>why</em>, but they love you, and anything I can do to help you, will certainly help them.”</p><p>Dan narrows his eyes at the debilitated Devil leaning weakly against the headboard. “You’re really gonna give me a hard time right now?  <em>Really?”</em></p><p>“Oh, come now, Daniel,” Lucifer whines teasingly. “You don’t really expect me to be anything other than myself, do you?”</p><p>“This… you really are just… <em>you</em>, aren’t you?” Dan’s eyes widen as a realization comes to him. “You’re not the Devil… the Devil is… just <em>you</em>.”</p><p>“I am as I have been since you’ve known me, Daniel,” Lucifer nods, “just with some added layers to consider.”</p><p>“And you and Chloe—”</p><p>“That’s been rather a rough journey,” Lucifer confesses. “But we’ve decided for the moment that we’re happier together than apart, and… I find I’m quite willing to enjoy it while it lasts.”</p><p>“While it lasts?”</p><p>“She’s bound to come to her senses sooner or later,” His eyes cast downward, focusing on the blanket covering his lap. “When she decides she’s had enough of the… disasters that seem to surround me, of course I’ll step aside for her happiness. But I’ve given up trying to convince her that walking away from me is her best option.”</p><p>“You’re not just playing with her, then?” It comes out softer than he intended, but the accusation is still there, and it stings.</p><p>“I would never!” Lucifer’s eyes snap up, meeting his gaze and holding him like a cobra holds a mouse. “All of my previous bedmates knew exactly what they were signing up for, Douche—I’ve never <em>toyed</em> with anyone in my <em>very long life</em>. That’s more my Father’s purview, thank you very much.”</p><p>“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he rushes to apologize. “I… I do know that you don’t lie, and you told her that you love her just now. I, uh... I can tell that you do.  I think she’s loved you for a long time.”</p><p>“Has she?” The anger melts from his eyes, and his expression becomes puzzled. “I don’t understand it, Daniel. I’ve told her time and again… I’m not worth her regard.”</p><p>That’s certainly not anything Dan had expected Lucifer to say. “She, uh… she can be pretty stubborn, man.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Lucifer’s smile is fond, but he still doesn’t lift his eyes. Dan casts his mind around to a different subject to break the uncomfortable moment.</p><p>“So, uh, your mom and I—”</p><p>“Gah! Nonononono!” Lucifer bursts out, disgusted. “I refuse to have <em>that</em> discussion with you, Daniel, <em>any </em>other topics, if you please, but I absolutely decline to discuss Mum’s sex life while she was with us on Earth.”</p><p>Dan laughs at the sheer ridiculousness of the <em>Devil</em> being as disgusted at hearing about a parent’s sex life as any human being, and Lucifer glares at him, though without any real heat behind it.</p><p>“I’m glad my emotional scarring can provide some entertainment for you, Daniel.”</p><p>“Dude, seriously, it was just—”</p><p>“Nah!” Lucifer exclaims, placing his hands over his ears and humming loudly as Dan laughingly holds up his hands in resignation.</p><p>Lucifer narrows his eyes at the former-detective suspiciously and quiets, tentatively uncovering his ears.</p><p>“Seriously though, man, I—I’m really sorry for… everything. Blaming you for Charlotte’s death. Totally losing it and trying to kill you. I don’t… I don’t know how to handle this, but maybe… maybe you can help me find a way to make it right?”</p><p>“Daniel, you <em>owe me nothing</em>,” Lucifer reiterates. “I want that to be very clear. You’re not the first to try to kill me, and the way I’m going, I highly doubt you’ll be the last, unless you decide to try again later, after my brother has his next go at me… I will happily do what I can to help relieve you of the guilt you carry, as I wouldn’t want to see you wind up in Hell. But… you must remember that you are the key to your own chains, Daniel, <em>only you can determine how much guilt you carry.</em>”</p><p>Dan stares at the Devil with wide eyes, trying to process what he’s being told. “You’re saying… what are you saying?”</p><p>“Making amends is a wonderful place to start, Daniel, but you need to start working on <em>letting go of your guilt</em>.” He catches Dan’s sideways look. “Believe me, I know exactly how difficult it is, and I’m still working on it myself. You’re not an evil person, you’ve merely made some—admittedly rather terrible—mistakes. You will decide your own fate when your time comes. Remember that, all right?”</p><p>“I’ll… try.” Dan swallows again, trying to look at the idea of trusting the Devil with advice on his immortal soul as a good type of progress.</p><p>“Well, and that’s all we can ask of ourselves, isn’t it?” Lucifer sighs. “To <em>try</em> to do better. So long as we <em>keep</em> trying, yes?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Dan nods resolutely. “Yeah, you’re right!”</p><p><em>“Well</em>, what a touching scene I’ve stumbled on here!” Michael’s cold voice emanates from the doorway. “I’m so glad you two have made amends just in time for me to tear it all down for you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. You're Falling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> <em>“Michael!”</em> Lucifer’s voice drips with false welcome. “I wondered when you’d show our face again. You haven’t officially met my sometimes-friend Daniel here, have you? Daniel this is my brother, Michael. He’s the one that bailed you out of that lovely little resort you were staying in.”</p><p>Dan doesn’t respond, frozen in his position on the floor, and Michael doesn’t bother to acknowledge his existence. He stalks into the room like the predator he’s chosen to be, taking in his surroundings methodically.</p><p>“I saw your Detective leave here a little while ago… I thought it a bit odd that she was here for so long, and without your little science friend ever turning up as well. You might as well have lit a beacon.” Michael muses. “I’m so glad to find you both here together. At least <em>this</em> part of my original plan I can enact. A little dose of fear to fry the human’s brain, bleed you out here and leave some identifiable bits behind… then dispose of the rest of you in the heart of one of your precious stars. No more regeneration. I don’t know how you’ve managed to heal so quickly <em>this </em>time, but it won’t happen again. But! Before we get side-tracked with more pleasant activities… <em>what have you done to me, Samael?”</em></p><p>“What have <em>I</em> done to <em>you?”</em> Lucifer barks an incredulous laugh, then winces and presses a palm to his still-healing side.  “Shouldn’t I be asking that question of you? From the feel of my back when I woke, you even cut off my wings for me.”</p><p>“Well, I had to get your damned suit off you somehow, didn’t I, if I was going to pass myself off as you, with a believable excuse for missing your precious breakfast date with your little girlfriend’s daughter.” He giggles, and the sound echoes eerily around the small room. “But you haven’t answered my question. What have you <em>done</em> to me? Did you manage to consult with some of your black magic practitioners during your little break in Hell? Hm?”</p><p>“I have no bloody idea what you’re on about,” Lucifer tilts his head curiously.</p><p><em>“YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT, SAMAEL!” </em>he roars, unfurling his tattered, ragged wings. Dan flinches back against the wall, arms over his head, and Lucifer draws back at the sight before him. Michael’s wings are nearly bald—the dingy feathers that remain cling loosely in patchy areas, and a few sad examples detach and drift to the floor in the eddies of air caused by the sudden appearance of the skeletal appendages. The scar on the leading edge of the right wing stands out grimly, a thick, sickly grey slash against the otherwise healthy pink skin.</p><p>“What— What—” Lucifer seems to be stuck on that word, unable to move past the thought.</p><p>“Oh, yes,” Michael seethes, "<em>What</em> indeed. If you tell me what you’ve done, and how I can fix it, I will end you quickly. If—”</p><p>“Oh, you don’t need to finish that sentence, Michael,” Lucifer replies breezily. Dan glances at him from the corner of his eye… his voice sounds as though he’s restraining <em>laughter</em>. “I ran Hell for eons, brother, I know how the bargaining goes. As it happens… I may actually know what’s happening to you. If it’s what I think it is, you’re not going to like the bloody answer.”</p><p>“You will tell me,” Michael snarls, “or I’ll start with your little human pet down there.”</p><p>“That’s an empty threat, Michael, and you know it.” Lucifer’s voice is cold as ice. Michael edges closer to the bed where the Devil sits propped against the headboard, looming as threateningly as he can with wings that look as though they’ve been run through a plucking machine. “You <em>need</em> Daniel in good shape in order to frame him for my murder.”</p><p>“So they’ll think you fought back,” Michael shrugs his sloped shoulders nonchalantly.</p><p>“Yes, because I’m incredibly capable of that in this condition,” Lucifer snaps weakly, and Michael stops to consider.</p><p>“I suppose you’re right. You <em>are</em> a fairly pathetic specimen right now.” Michael growls. “I suppose I could just wait for your girlfriend—”</p><p>“No need for that, Michael,” Lucifer rushes to continue, a wicked grin spreading across his face and lighting his eyes. “I’m actually quite eager to tell you what I think is happening to you. It’s quite simple—you’re <em>falling.”</em></p><p>Michael laughs outright, his wings flaring upward and a few more sad feathers detaching and helicoptering slowly to the floor. <em>“Falling!</em> Me. The Sword of God. How long were you dead, brother, were you left in your Loop so long that it addled your brain?”</p><p>“While my Loop was no picnic,” Lucifer smirks, “I have a feeling you might actually prefer it compared to what’s in <em>your</em> future, brother. A total loss of your powers, stuck here on Earth, as a <em>human</em>, until you earn your way back to Grace. No shortcuts, brother. No plotting, no strategy… merely test upon miserable test to build your character.”</p><p>“You’re lying.” Michael’s tone could cut diamond, but Lucifer simply laughs.</p><p>“Am I?” he crows. “Which of us is the <em>good son</em> now, Michael?”</p><p>And to demonstrate, he rolls his shoulders and unfurls his brand-new set of perfectly shining, fully feathered snow-white wings. They drape across the bed listlessly, as he lacks the energy to properly maneuver them, but clearly entirely divine and whole. Michael stares at them in panic.</p><p>“I cut them off!” he gasps. Dan’s eyes widen as he takes in again the wings that had haunted his dreams and waking nightmares for several weeks, and tenses as his hand creeps toward the waistband of his jeans.</p><p>“You most certainly did,” Lucifer agrees smugly. “They’re tenacious little buggers, I can’t <em>tell</em> you how many times I cut the bloody things off myself before I just decided to leave them be. I could have gone into business stuffing pillows for a while there. If our wings are our link to divinity, to Father… then what do <em>our</em> wings say about our current respective statuses, hm? What tipped your scales, brother, and cast <em>you</em> from grace?”</p><p>Michael gapes at his brother, unable to fathom that this… this <em>unworthy invalid</em> is daring to taunt him from his sickbed. Suddenly he snaps, drawing his sword with a bellow of rage as he lunges toward the defenseless target before him.</p><p>“Daniel, <em>run!”</em> Lucifer cries, unflinching in the face of his brother’s fury. Dan springs up, but instead of running he <em>leaps</em> between Satan and the Sword of God, taking the brunt of the attack as he slashes the karambit he’d hidden in his waistband deeply across the archangel’s face. Michael’s sword stroke, which had been aimed for Lucifer’s throat, catches Dan directly through the gut, opening a broad swath right across his navel. Dan collapses, bleeding across the bed, directly into Lucifer’s lap as Michael rears back with a hiss, pawing at his face.</p><p>He swipes his hand across his eyes to clear the blood from them, and Mazikeen is suddenly there brandishing one of the most wicked-looking blades Dan has ever seen. While Michael attempts to clear his sight, she deftly takes his right wing in her left hand and swings a vicious strike with her right, severing it cleanly. Michael’s shriek of agony drowns out her satisfied exclamation and he whirls to face her, but she’s already gripping his left wing and spins nimbly with him, repeating the move with identical result. Blinded by his own blood and stumbling weakly, the wounded archangel trips over his own severed wings and plants face-first, whimpering on the hard concrete floor. Maze loses no time kneeling on his back, applying pressure to the fresh wounds with her knees to keep him down as Amenadiel scrambles through the door with some hell-forged chains to keep him contained.</p><p>“Don’t be such a wuss,” Maze hisses in the archangel’s ear, “Lucifer never screamed when I cut his off, and the knives I used on him were <em>so </em>much smaller… took ten times as long. You’re getting off <em>easy.”</em></p><p>Amenadiel freezes as he spies the wings littering the floor, then his eyes lift to Lucifer, frantically applying pressure to the gaping laceration across Dan’s abdomen. He snaps the chains onto Michael’s wrists and ankles, leaving the demon to her restraint, and moves swiftly to the bedside.</p><p>“Help me, brother, I can’t…” panic threads through Lucifer’s words, his strength too feeble to hold appropriate pressure on such a wound. Frustration creeps into his voice as he continues, “Daniel, keep breathing, we’ll… get you some help. Why did you jump in front of me like that? That wasn’t part of the plan, you idiot!”</p><p>“It wasn’t for myself,” Dan gasps painfully, “that’s for damn sure.”</p><p>Amenadiel looks up from the bleeding gash, narrowing his eyes briefly at his friend before recognizing where he’d heard those words before. “You’re going to be fine, Dan.”</p><p>“Brother” Lucifer murmurs, his slippery hands pressing feebly against the crimson current flowing from Dan’s blood-soaked stomach as the man passes into unconsciousness. “He’s losing too much blood.”</p><p>“I know, Luci, it’s okay.” The dark angel feels a sense of calm overtake him, and he suddenly knows what to do. He leans down to pluck one of the dull feathers strewn across the floor of the room and rests it lengthwise across the wound.</p><p>“Brother, that’s not going to work, he’s <em>human!” </em>Lucifer’s voice is shaky with anxiety and fatigue, but Amenadiel’s calm persists. He presses his palms over the feather and the wound and closes his eyes, focusing inward in the same way he does when he manipulates time. Slowly, slowly, the blood ceases to flow.</p><p>“No!” Lucifer cries miserably. “Father, please, I’ll—”</p><p>“He’s fine, Luci,” Amenadiel interrupts exhaustedly, coming back to himself.</p><p>“He’s—” Lucifer splutters, hands moving across Dan’s no-longer-open wound. “How—?"</p><p>Amenadiel sits back with a wide grin, laughing with relief. “Father.”</p><p>“Father?” Lucifer gapes, “But I didn’t—”</p><p>“It’s not a deal, Luci, He’s not going to ask anything of you.” Amenadiel assures him tiredly. “He granted me the gift of healing for this one instance. It’s His way of helping us with this situation.”</p><p>“Amenadiel, what—?" Lucifer’s mouth works, but nothing emerges. “I… don’t understand.”</p><p>“Hey,” Maze interrupts disinterestedly from where she’s still kneeling on Michael’s back. “I’ve got a bleeding, knocked-out fallen archangel here… do we have any idea what we’re going to be doing with him, now that nobody’s dying?”</p><p>Amenadiel and Lucifer glance at each other, chagrined.</p><p>“Do you still have the rack in your apartment, Mazikeen?”</p><p>“What am I, a novice?  Of course I’ve still got the rack.”</p><p>“Let’s start there, immobilization <em>only</em>, no stretching. Place him face-down so the wounds don’t have to bear pressure. Understood?” Lucifer lifts an eyebrow at her stormy expression.</p><p>“Fine,” she mutters. “Spoilsport.” She stands and heaves the lanky angel over her shoulder with a grunt of effort. As she turns to leave she tosses back over her shoulder, “Somebody might want to let Decker know everyone’s alive.”</p><p>*</p><p>Trixie bounces exuberantly out to the car and climbs into the back seat, powered on her nutritious breakfast of Donut Stix and chocolate milk. She stops short when she sees Arael in the passenger seat instead of Lucifer and her eyes flicker from her mother back to the wild-haired angel.</p><p>“What’s wrong? Is Lucifer okay?” Her voice quavers and Chloe is quick to reassure her as well as she can.</p><p>“We’ve had… an eventful weekend, Monkey. I didn’t want to worry you while you were having fun with your friends, but… we’ve almost got everything squared away now. Buckle in, kiddo, and we’ll head home.”</p><p>“Is Lucifer there?” Her daughter doesn’t move to comply, simply waits for her answer.</p><p>“My brother is at Lux, preparing to take care of the problem, Miss Trixie.” Arael rumbles. “Mazikeen of the Lilim and my brother Amenadiel are helping him, and…” his eyes flicker to Chloe, who nods. “Your father is helping him as well.”</p><p>“Dad’s helping Lucifer?” Trixie’s eyes widen dramatically. “When did he get out of the hospital?”</p><p>“Um… they let him out on Friday,” Chloe supplies eagerly. She’d much rather talk about Dan’s situation than what Lucifer’s been through this weekend. They haven’t discussed a child-friendly version of <em>that</em> particular Hell yet. “He’s been doing really well with his sessions and he’s been talking to Doctor Linda too, and someone posted his bail.”</p><p>“Did he try to hurt Lucifer again, is that why he’s not with you?  You’re okay, right Mommy?” Trixie leans forward, her eyes anxiously scanning her mother for any new injuries.</p><p>“No baby, I’m perfectly fine, and your dad hasn’t done anything else to Lucifer.” Chloe comforts gently. “He’s actually been helping us with the issues this weekend, and he wants to start trying to make up for his mistakes.”</p><p>“He said that before,” Trixie narrows her eyes suspiciously, crossing her arms.</p><p>“I know, Trix. But he really has been a big help this weekend, and we have to give him a chance to prove himself, right?” Chloe’s eyes meet her daughter’s—so reminiscent of Lucifer’s—in the rearview mirror and she sees her tiny, uncertain nod. “C’mon Monkey, get your seatbelt on so we can get home. I need to pick up your dad’s phone from the apartment so we can get it charged and get it back to him.”</p><p>“Can we go see Lucifer after that?” Trixie’s tone is plaintive, and Chloe knows she’s not convinced that everything is fine.</p><p>“Once we get the all-clear that everything’s taken care of, we can go see him. We’ll talk about it more once we’re at home, okay?” Chloe can see the curtains moving at the front window of the Edwards’ home and she doesn’t want them to come out to see if everything is all right. Trixie relents, buckles in, and the drive home is ominously silent.</p><p>By the time they pull into Chloe’s parking space at the apartment, Chloe is developing a stress headache and Trixie’s expression is stormy. As they approach the front door, however, Arael stops. He closes his eyes and a grim smile spreads across his face.</p><p>“You’ve got news!” Chloe presses quietly, and he nods, pressing his palms together in front of him. “Trix, go get your laundry together so we can start that before we talk, and I’ll find your dad’s phone.”</p><p>Trixie throws a calculating look over her shoulder, but does as she’s asked as Chloe turns to Arael impatiently.</p><p>“It’s over,” he says simply. “There was an injury, but it has been healed, and Michael is currently incapacitated and being held securely.”</p><p>Chloe’s knees give out in relief, and Arael smoothly catches her, gently depositing her on one of her tall barstools.</p><p>“Who was hurt?” she murmurs, not wanting to alarm Trixie.</p><p>“Michael attacked Dan, but my Father allowed Amenadiel to heal him. He’s sleeping off the injury now.” Arael responds just as quietly.</p><p>“And Lucifer?” Her slate blue eyes meet his vivid turquoise with laser focus, and Arael grins knowingly at her.</p><p>“Also asleep. Apparently the confrontation was a lot for him to handle in his current weakened state.”</p><p>“Lucifer’s weak?” Trixie’s voice comes from just behind her sliding door, and Chloe chuckles as she hears a tiny gasp as her daughter realizes she’s just revealed herself as an eavesdropper.</p><p>“You remember he told us about his twin brother?”</p><p>“The one that was mean to him, and threw him out of Heaven.”</p><p>“That’s the one. He showed up and hurt Lucifer really badly, but he’s doing a <em>lot</em> better now. He just needs to rest again so he can heal.” Chloe hesitates, unsure how much more to say.</p><p>“Did he break his wings again?” Trixie asks anxiously. “Lucifer said his <em>soul</em> bled last time that happened!”</p><p>“Baby, he—”</p><p>“Lucifer’s wings are perfectly fine, Trixie,” Arael supplies gently. “You’ll be able to see them if we get there while he’s still asleep, because he unfurled them during the confrontation and was too, er… tired to put them away again before he fell asleep.”</p><p>“Mom, can we go now?  Please??” Trixie’s eyes plead with Chloe, and she stifles a chuckle. Now that she knows both Lucifer and Dan are safe, she feels a thousand times lighter.</p><p>“Did you get your laundry? And I still need to track down your dad’s phone.”</p><p>“I’ll get it right <em>now!”</em> And she makes haste to do just that. “Hurry, Mom!”</p><p>*</p><p>Amenadiel texts Linda, who texts Ella and Eve the update that Michael is in unofficial custody and the worst of the ordeal should be over. Ella immediately responds that she’s on her way to Lux to check in. Eve sends a quick response that she’s glad, but has to finish her shift. She’ll get the full story from Maze later.</p><p>Maze had followed through with her plans to get someone to repair the penthouse level. She’d called in a few of Lucifer’s favors to get it expedited, and even with Michael’s level of destructive capabilities, the flat is livable, if not yet pristine. Maze hauls Dan up to her apartment’s guest room to sleep off his injury, stripping him of his bloody outfit and dressing him in some random clothing left behind by one of her or Lucifer’s previous overnight guests. Amenadiel disentangles Lucifer’s unconscious form from his blood-soaked blankets and carries him up to the penthouse. He unceremoniously strips him and replaces the ruined silk trousers with a fresh pair before placing him carefully in his own bed with his wings arranged around him.</p><p>When Chloe, Arael, and Trixie arrive at Lux, Chloe asks Trixie to stay with Arael in one of the booths while she bolts for the room where Lucifer had been hidden. She stops short at the carnage present, immensely glad she hadn’t let Trixie follow her.</p><p>There are battered black feathers strewn all over the floor, though she barely registers those except that they crunch hollowly under her boots as she carefully steps further into the room. Blood—there is <em>so much blood here.</em> It soaks the sheets, and is congealing all across the floor, pooling around the pitifully bare wings strewn across the room. From the few clinging feathers, Chloe presumes the wings belonged to Michael, though they certainly weren’t in this shape the last time she saw them. She takes a final look around the room, including a long, worried glance at the amount of blood pooled in the bed, and walks briskly back down the corridor toward Lux.</p><p>“Where did they go?” She asks Arael urgently, “Lucifer’s not there…”</p><p>“Amenadiel just informed me that they relocated upstairs. Michael is still unconscious and is being held in Mazikeen’s old apartment, and Dan is sleeping in one of the rooms there as well. Lucifer is in his own bedroom, also still asleep.”</p><p>“And everyone is all right?”</p><p>“Yes. Lucifer wasn’t injured at all, only exhausted.” Arael assures her calmly.</p><p>“Then, let’s check on Dan first.”</p><p>Arael steps back, gesturing toward the elevator, and Trixie and Chloe lead the way. The doors slide open and Maze greets them sprawled on the furnished couch, cleaning an enormous blade.</p><p>“Hey Trix,” Maze greets her favorite human first before she glances up at Chloe and nods toward the door that holds Dan. “He’s in there. He snores, how did you put up with that for so long?”</p><p>Trixie giggles softly, and crosses the room to watch Maze while Chloe cracks open the door to check on her ex-husband. He <em>is</em> snoring, and seems a little pale. She pulls the blanket down, and can’t find any evidence of a wound other than the scent of blood. The clothing he’s wearing is clearly not his, but the white T-shirt with the classy slogan “All boobs, no brains” is clean. Chloe doesn’t touch him, but takes Arael’s assurance of his healed status as fact. She watches him breathe for a moment before exiting back to the main room.</p><p>“Where’s Michael?”</p><p>Maze nods down a hallway. “He hasn’t been tended to yet, but Amenadiel’s watching him. Trust me, he’s contained, but you don’t want to see him right now.” Chloe follows her nod with a glance, but nods her acceptance.</p><p>“Trix, do you mind hanging out here with Maze for a little bit while I check on Lucifer before you come up?  You can go check on your dad if you want, but don’t wake him up, okay?  He needs to rest.”</p><p>Maze winks at Trixie, who grins. “Nah, I’m good. I can go up and see Lucifer, though?”</p><p>“Yeah baby, I’ll come get you, I just… need a minute to talk with him first, if he’s awake.”</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. I'll Hold You To It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael drifts into consciousness feeling as though he’s been hit by a meteor. His mind slowly lurches into motion and he pulls in a painful breath, the expansion of his chest causing bolts of agony to flare across his back. He’s resting on his stomach, spread-eagled on a hard surface. He goes to push himself up from his prone position and finds that he’s unable to move—his joints are secured, and there even appears to be a restraint across his neck, rendering him unable to lift his head. He works to peel his gummy eyes open, but his vision is obscured by what seems to be a red fog. He blinks several times as he tries to try to clear them, his eyelashes clinging together each time they meet. He groans and flickers his tongue over his dry lips, tasting the metallic tang of dried blood there. The skin of his cheek is glued to the surface he’s strapped to, apparently with his own blood. His brain struggles to catch up to his situation.</p><p>He remembers talking with Samael’s Detective, and the surprising flare of her eyes. He’d tried to use his power of fear on her, and she hadn’t even twitched. It had unnerved him so much that he’d immediately gone to Raphael for more information on this miracle of their father’s.</p><p>*</p><p>Raphael had been exasperated when he’d answered his office door. “I <em>told</em> you I would tell you if I heard from Amenadiel, Arael, or Azrael, what more can you possibly want from me, Michael?”</p><p>“I need to know what you know about Father’s miracle.”</p><p>“You’re interrupting me for a <em>human?”</em> Raphael scoffed. “Do you think I have nothing else to do than gather useless information?”</p><p>“Oh, really, Raphael, she must hold <em>some</em> interest to you, as the only human to carry divinity? I know you’ve examined her, at least.”</p><p>“Of course I have, she was instrumental in the experimental treatment for that aberrant poison that Uriel gave that priest.”</p><p>“So?” Michael goaded, folding his wings. “What do you know about her, then?”</p><p>“Have you been in a fight, brother?” Raphael had looked at him in concern, moving closer.</p><p>“Of course I haven’t been in a fight,” he’d snapped impatiently, “what has that to do with the miracle human?”</p><p>“Nothing about the miracle, but your <em>wings</em>—”</p><p>Michael had glanced around, then whirled in surprise. His ebony feathers had littered the floor behind him, and were eddying in the air currents around him as he spun. “What in Father’s name?” A bolt of fear spiked through him as he folded them hurriedly away. “Never mind the wings, Raphael, tell me about the miracle!”</p><p>“But--!”</p><p><em>“Now.”</em> He had attempted to lace the word with Command, but Raphael had been unaffected. He had glared at his brother before giving in and answering, against his better judgement.</p><p>“Father gifted her with the ability to resist the fallen one’s powers, and an overall resistance to the effect divinity has on most humans. She’s still susceptible to the rest of the Host’s powers.” Raphael recited this list as if reading off a medical chart, then added, “And now she hosts some divinity from the fallen one, as well, though as far as I’m aware it hasn’t affected her physically, unless something has manifested since the last time I followed up. Which is highly unlikely.”</p><p>“You’re certain she’s affected by everyone’s powers but Samael’s?” Michael pressed.</p><p>“I didn’t see any indication otherwise. I know she’s affected by Amenadiel’s powers of time, and I was able to read her without any difficulty whatsoever.” His eyes narrowed on his brother. “Why?”</p><p>“No reason,” Michael snapped unconvincingly, “Merely… planning strategy, that’s all.” He turned away and disappeared in a quick flash of ebony, leaving another dozen or more feathers scattered in the displaced air left behind. Raphael had gaped at the feathers sprinkled all over his floor before bending to gather them, grumbling. He had taken them to his desk and started researching molting—not a normal phenomenon for angels, but if Michael was losing feathers at this rate, Raphael was going to need to figure out why. So, he pulled out his resources on wings and feather care and started to review. Which is what he’d been occupied with a few hours later when Amenadiel had knocked at his office door.</p><p>Imagine his surprise when his eldest brother had wanted to discuss the very brother that he was currently concerned over… and even deeper shock when Amenadiel provided some previously unknown history that could really explain quite a lot that had puzzled him in the past.</p><p>It had never made sense why the wound wouldn’t heal. Wounds from Celestial weapons heal slowly, yes, but not for decades—which had been the maximum amount of time Raphael had been willing to wait before forcing the wound to seal over. Typically it’s a battle between the wounding power of the weapon and the healing power (fueled by divine light and love) of the angel in question. Raphael had been puzzled at the lack of healing, but had chalked it up to several things—wings were notoriously slower to heal, for one. Michael had no close associations between himself and anyone in the Host, so perhaps there was less divine love coming into play. Perhaps Michael wasn’t resting the wing properly, he was in charge of battle training for the entire Host… and so the excuses piled up.</p><p>When Amenadiel brought to him the missing piece—that the Flaming Sword and <em>Azrael’s</em> soul-eating blade were one and the same, a flicker of fear and worry had ignited in Raphael’s being. <em>This was bad</em>. A fatal blow from Azrael’s blade smote your soul from existence, of course, but a non-fatal blow, even a glancing blow… those were more insidious.</p><p>His littlest sister had told him about her blade when their Father had gifted it to her, and all about how she had found a safe place to squirrel it away because Azrael, gentle soul that she was, had been afraid of accidentally erasing a soul. She had told him that she never wanted to be responsible for that kind of mistake, so she had hidden it—somewhere safe, she’d assured him, and he had smiled indulgently at his youngest sister. Azrael had spent nearly as much time in his office as she had in Arael’s gardens before she was old enough to take up her Purpose as Courier of Souls. She had become much more reserved after the Rebellion, but Raphael knew she had always been exceptionally close to… to the <em>fallen one</em>, so that was only to be expected. It was one reason he had made sure to let her know about his recent adventures on Earth when he had bumped into her, when he was helping Amenadiel try to figure out the poison situation. He had known she would want to visit her <em>favourite</em> brother to say goodbye, if it came to that.</p><p>A <em>non-</em>fatal blow from Azrael’s blade merely fed on the soul until the wound healed. Immersed in and overwhelmed with his responsibilities as the Sword of God, and lacking any true ties of love to any of the Host… Michael was perhaps <em>the</em> worst candidate for such a wound. With his <em>twin</em> being the Light and Michael being the Darkness, even a normal wound from a Celestial weapon would have taken longer to heal than normal, simply because of the Darkness of Michael’s nature repelling the divine light needed to correct the damage. Factor in the dearth of divine love, and that his soul had been not only <em>bleeding</em> from the wound to the wing<em>, </em>but slowly being consumed by the blade until Raphael sealed off the wound… it was an all-new recipe for disaster.</p><p>Raphael had set aside his pride and listened attentively to Arael and Amenadiel’s idea for Michael. When Amenadiel had cast his hopeful glance at Raphael for his input, he’d been unable to hide his revulsion at the idea… but he’d also been unable to offer even a single other idea. It was a harsh treatment, and it would be a <em>long</em>, and entirely unpleasant road to recovery for Michael—but even Raphael had to admit that Michael had gone far beyond the line of decency when dealing with his twin.</p><p>Yes, Raphael had finally submitted and allowed Amenadiel to fill him in on what had happened… on what Michael had perpetrated upon his twin. Raphael could understand, now, why so many had been bothering him lately— beseeching him to go to Arael’s garden to <em>see</em> what had been done to… Lucifer.</p><p>Raphael collected a satchel of healing unguents and poultices for Amenadiel to use on <em>both</em> twins, with the promise that if he’s needed, he’s only a prayer away. Once Amenadiel had left, Raphael filled his role in their plan by notifying Michael that Amenadiel had been to see him, and what he had gathered about the location of Lucifer’s body. Then he sat at his desk, head in hand and stared disconsolately at the scattered feathers still mocking him on his desk.</p><p><em>Some Healer you are, Raphael</em>.</p><p>*</p><p>Chloe doesn’t bother to wait for the elevator, instead taking the stairs two at a time to reach the penthouse level above Maze’s apartment. She barely registers how empty it is – Maze hasn’t had a chance to get the piano replaced yet, only the cleaning and <em>big</em> repairs are completed—as she rushes to the bedroom. She freezes on the top of the steps at the entrance to the bedroom. Lucifer has been positioned on the bed carefully, and Chloe doesn’t like it at all until she can <em>see</em> his chest moving with his even breaths. She moves into the room and sits on the edge of the bed with care, avoiding crushing any of the feathers of his arranged wings beneath her. Her right hand settles over his heart and her left takes his right into her lap. She closes her eyes and sighs in relief. He feels warmer than he did when she left him just a few hours ago. His heartbeat is steady and strong and the light within her hums happily at his proximity. She grips his hand tightly and lets herself have this moment of peace. After seeing the enormous amount of blood in the bed she’d last seen him occupying, she just needs… <em>this</em>. To simply remind herself that he’s alive, here with her, and if not yet healthy, at least <em>healing</em>.</p><p>Her eyes flicker to the wounds on his shoulder and side. They’re still bruised, angry-looking, and not entirely closed, but are far less macabre now that they’re not gaping open. Chloe’s fairly certain that, while Trixie will be <em>upset</em> that Lucifer is hurt, she shouldn’t be afraid of losing him. She hadn’t told her daughter yet that Lucifer had actually been dead for a time… she hadn’t wanted to breach that subject until Trixie could physically see and feel for herself that their devil is okay. She’d much rather just skip that detail, but she knows that Lucifer can’t lie, and it’s bound to come up eventually. Better to face the truth head on than be blindsided by it later… something that she’s learned from having Lucifer in her life.</p><p>“We’re taking a vacation when all this is done, Lucifer,” she murmurs quietly. “I don’t care where, but we’re taking some time to just… enjoy life together.”</p><p>“Well, so someone really <em>does </em>need to die to get you to enjoy life, hm?” his voice rasps heavily, and he squeezes her hand. She’s got a better view of the slice under his chin from this angle, and she notes that she needs to clear the blood from his throat before she allows Trixie up. “Can we… perhaps… not make that an absolute requirement for future, Detective?”</p><p>“If you promise not to die anymore, I promise to take more vacations.” She offers.</p><p>“I’m afraid I can only promise to try.” His fingers tighten on hers, and his eyes slide open to meet hers.</p><p>“Then I’ll hold you to it.”</p><p>“Anybody up here?” Ella’s voice calls from the elevator.</p><p>“In here, Ella!” Her eyes don’t leave his until Ella reaches the door to the room, hesitating before crossing the threshold. Chloe glances up then, expression warm.</p><p>“It’s quite all right, Miss Lopez, you’re not interrupting anything,” Lucifer croaks. “Or is it the wings giving you pause? I can’t quite fold them away yet.”</p><p>“No! No, not at all,” Ella assures him, moving closer with tears in her eyes. “I’m just… I’m so glad you’re <em>here</em>. I…” She stifles a sob, and he holds out his free hand to her. She crosses the room to take it, sitting cross-legged on the bed opposite Chloe. “I was, um, I took Arael and Dan to where you were buried, and we dug you up, and…”</p><p>“Oh,” he swallows heavily. “Miss Lopez, that is not something you should have had to see. I am so very—”</p><p>“If you’re seriously apologizing for getting murdered and dumped in your brother’s old grave, I’m going to specifically tell every single new hire from now until retirement that the only greeting you accept is a hug.”</p><p>“—glad that you were able to lead my brother to the correct place to find me,” Lucifer changes course smoothly, and Ella and Chloe both huff watery laughs.</p><p>“Trixie’s downstairs waiting to come up,” Chloe says after a moment. “I’m going to clean off some of the blood on you before I let her see you okay? And give you guys a minute to… to catch up.” She stands, slowly easing the trailing feathers from her lap and moves to the bathroom, taking her time to look for some towels or cloths to use.</p><p>“Miss Lopez,” he stops speaking as she hiccups a little and a few tears dribble down her cheeks. “I… find I don’t have adequate words to express my gratitude. No one other than Amenadiel and Mazikeen knew of that gravesite, and I’ve no doubt that I would not be here now if not for you and that brilliant, beautiful little nerdy mind of yours. Are you… quite all right?”</p><p>“Um,” Ella bites her lip, tearful eyes focused on his hand clutched tightly in hers. “I really want to say ‘I’m fine’, because I know none of us can handle anything else right now, but… I’m… not all right. I’m <em>really </em>not all right.”</p><p>She starts crying in earnest, then, and he manages to struggle into a sitting position by clumsily scooting himself backward and up the headboard. He pulls her into an embrace, and wraps his wing comfortingly around her. He doesn’t say a word—wouldn’t know what to say if he tried—but his presence alone is a balm to her raw nerves. He listens carefully as her sobs slowly take on the cadence of broken speech.</p><p>“I’m trying so hard to stay positive, Lucifer,” she buries her face into his bare shoulder, hot tears scalding his still-too-cool skin. “But with everything—I screamed at Dan in the car on the way back after we found you, like, full-on freaked out. <em>Everything</em> you’ve said about your dad makes total sense and I just… I wish I could go <em>back</em>.”</p><p>“Miss Lopez,” his regretful sigh ruffles her hair. “I am deeply sorry to have been the reason behind your current existential crisis. My Father…” he hesitates, trying to form the words to convey his current thoughts. “As I told you on the balcony that night before it all came crashing down, despite my previous convictions that we’ve all been manipulated six ways to Sunday, I truly do believe now that my Father has had very little to do with what happens here on Earth. He gave all of you Free Will, to do with it as you would. He set his Plan in motion eons ago, and very rarely does He apparently feel the need to interfere with it. I suppose we could place a bit of the blame for Charlotte on His shoulders, since he <em>was</em> the one that fashioned the immortality curse for Cain that made it possible for him to pull that trigger so many millennia later, but… even I have to admit that it might be a bit of a stretch. Cain would have had to make <em>so many choices</em> to come to that point, that even if my Father <em>had </em>been watching closely, it would be unlikely that he would have caught it. And, as sorry as I am to lose Charlotte—especially when I thought I’d never be able to see her again—knowing that she’s gotten her hard-earned reward soothes me immensely. I’ve even managed to scrape up a <em>very</em> small amount of pity for Cain—being an immortal human was a vicious curse to bear for so long, but he seems to have found some peace for the time being, and I find that I can’t really begrudge him that.”</p><p>A sniffle emerges from his shoulder, and Ella lifts her head a little, intrigued. “Did you see him when you were in Hell?”</p><p>“Actually, no—I found him while I was in Limbo.” Ella is thoroughly distracted now, and he hides a smile at the flicker of interest lighting in her eyes. “Oh, yes, I haven’t even had a chance to tell the Detective about this bit yet—”</p><p>“Um… Lucifer?” Chloe’s confused voice drifts into the room from the direction of the linen closet. “Why… why are there wings stuffed in the closet?”</p><p>“Why are—what?” Lucifer asks, flummoxed. He feels Ella start to shake against his side, and he glances down at her. “Miss Lopez, what—?”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she gasps, desperately trying to control her laughter. “That’s all on me—The forensic team was on their way after Michael tipped them off that your body was here, Arael had taken you and Chloe and Dan had left and I needed to hide them… I’m really glad we didn’t need to figure out a way to re-attach them, because we didn’t even get a chance to clean them.” Tears are flowing again, but this time they’re from laughter—not the hysterical kind she’d experienced in the car with Dan, but something healing—allowing her to begin to find a balance within herself again, with the help of her friends. She pulls away from Lucifer’s gentle embrace, wiping her cheeks and pulling in deep, calming breaths. “I’m just… I’m really glad you’re back, buddy. I don’t know what any of us would do without you.”</p><p>“I’m happy to be back as well,” he smiles at her mischievously, “and I hope to inflict my company upon all of you for quite some time to come. Thank you for fighting so hard to bring me back, my dear.”</p><p>Ella leans in and plants a kiss on his cheek, and laughs as his eyes go wide in surprise. “That’s just for being your amazing self. I’m gonna go help Chloe move those wings.”</p><p>Between the two women they move the bundle of wings into Lucifer’s closet until they can figure out what to do with them. (Lucifer’s only input is that they’re <em>certainly</em> not using any of his feathers to heal Michael.) They come back with a stack of hand towels and a basin of warm water, and Chloe wipes away any extra traces of blood while Ella asks him about his feathers’ healing powers.</p><p>“No, they’d be quite useless to humans, except as a pretty trophy,” his lip curls in distaste. “They have the alarming tendency to drive most of humanity a bit mad, in fact. My brother had some humans steal the first set I cut off, trying to trick me back to Hell by forcing me to track them down, thinking I’d want to slap them right back on my shoulders once I got them. The poor fellow’s brain had nearly been fried by the time I found them… he’d mounted them in a case on his wall, and would just sit and stare at them.” He shakes his head, and Chloe clucks at him, trying to remove the crusted blood from the stubble of his throat. “I destroyed that set after that… clearly I couldn’t trust Maze <em>or</em> my brother to leave anything be.”</p><p>“That’s when I found you here, with your face all bloody—after that auction.” Chloe remembers suddenly.</p><p>“Oh, yes.” Lucifer leans his head back and closes his eyes, trying to give Chloe better access with the damp rag. She glances at it, and Ella hands her a fresh one, taking the bloodstained one away to rinse in the sink. “Amenadiel wasn’t at all happy that I’d set my wings on fire, he’d been <em>counting</em> on me taking that easy out and heading back to Hell like a meek little Devil.”</p><p>“He really didn’t know you at all, did he?” Ella asks quietly, as she returns to the room.</p><p>“He knew everything he wanted to. That he had to get his <em>evil</em> little brother back into Hell by any means necessary.” Lucifer’s eyes remain closed, but stress lines show in the corner of the eyes where he squeezes them shut. Ella reaches out to cover his large hand with her tiny one.</p><p>“He knows better now,” she assures him. “He was working just as hard to get you back as the rest of us were.”</p><p>“Yes,” he murmurs quietly, the warm water and relief of the tacky feel of dried blood removed from his skin slowly bleeding him of his energy. “He seems to have come ‘round a bit in the past year or two. Bit of a surprise, that.”</p><p>“Hey,” Chloe cajoles, smiling softly. “Do you want to fold your wings away before you doze off again?”</p><p>“Too tired,” he slurs, his eyes the barest dark glimmer as heavy lids slide closed.</p><p>“Trixie’s going to be disappointed she missed him awake, but she’ll be excited to see his wings again,” Chloe whispers to Ella, who laughs. “Hopefully they’ll distract her a little from the wounds.” She takes a final swipe over his shoulder and side, checking his back again, which is clear of any blood staining.</p><p>“You want to go get your kiddo while I take care of the evidence here?” Ella nods toward the now-crimson basin and the stack of blood-stained towels.</p><p>“Thanks Ella, you’re the best.”</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. I'm a Gardener, Not an Arbitrator!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael returns to consciousness, fresh from his memories of Raphael’s study with a reluctant groan.</p><p>“Welcome back,” a familiar, deep voice rings out somewhere to his left. “I was starting to wonder if you were faking unconsciousness.”</p><p>“Unconscious?” he repeats blearily, trying to pry his eyelids open. “What—?”</p><p>“How bad is the pain?”</p><p>“Sore?” Michael grunts inelegantly, and Amenadiel has the nerve to chuckle.</p><p>“Not too bad, then. Raphael’s salves are doing their job.” He hears movement, as though Amenadiel is adjusting his position. “Aside from the soreness, how are you feeling?”</p><p>“I… can’t move, and my eyes don’t want to open.”</p><p>“That’s because we have you restrained for <em>everyone’s</em> safety. Do you remember why?” He hears water dripping, and he flinches as Amenadiel moves closer. “Do you want me to clear the blood from your eyes so you can see?”</p><p>Being defenseless does not sit well with the Sword of God, and he remains silent for a long moment as he struggles with his pride. Eventually, the need to feel <em>less</em> helpless wins, and he grits out, “Yes.”</p><p>A soft, cool cloth trickles water across his eyes as his brother gently scrubs away the crusted blood that had been gluing his eyelashes together. He feels a stinging line crossing his face from the left side of his forehead, across the bridge of his nose and down onto his right cheek and has a flash of memory—the human male slashing at him with a dark blade as he leapt between him and his target— “Samael. This is Samael’s doing.” Rage floods him and he tries to move. He hears the heavy metallic sounds of his restraints, but only succeeds in digging the cuffs into his joints.</p><p>“While Lucifer <em>is</em> aware—and approves—of this plan, it isn’t actually his doing.” The hand swabbing his eyes remains gentle, but the tone is reprimanding. “<em>You</em> dear brother, got taken down by a human and a demon, so you might consider shelving your pride for a while. It’ll make this process a <em>lot</em> easier.”</p><p>“What process is that?”</p><p>“Your healing process, of course.” Amenadiel speaks matter-of-factly, but there’s a bit of smugness behind it. “Take it from me, it’s neither pleasant, nor quick.”</p><p>“What are you talking about, Amenadiel? What have you done to me?” he’s finally able to pry his eyes open, and finds himself in the center of what appears to be some sort of… dungeon? The walls in his line of sight are dark and hung with various instruments, and he feels a small flutter of uncertainty in his stomach.</p><p>“Oh, I’ve only been set to watch you. But I’ve been where you are, or… well, nearly. I didn’t fall <em>quite</em> so far as actually killing my brother, I managed to turn around and start climbing before I hit that particular outcropping. Of course, I wasn’t working with the handicap of an incomplete soul, either…” he trails off, and Michael rolls his freshly-opened eyes.</p><p>“I’ve no idea what you’re saying.” Michael snaps. “Let me up.” He laces his tone with his Command, but Amenadiel doesn’t move from his chair.</p><p>“I’ll try to keep it simple, then,” Amenadiel hovers in his line of sight and smiles, and it is not kind. “You’ve <em>fallen</em>, Michael. Not cast out like Lucifer was, with powers intact, but truly <em>fallen</em> from grace, as I did. There’s something in that sour, stunted soul of yours that you feel shame, or regret, or guilt for, and because of that, your powers have all been leached away. No more Command, no more drawing on Fear, or Darkness. That’s why your feathers were falling out, as well. We think we’ve figured out why you went so far off the rails, but we’re going to be watching you <em>very </em>closely.”</p><p><em>“I’m</em> off the rails?” Michael barks a harsh, humorless laugh. “Samael killed Uriel, have you forgotten?  You really think he deserves to be allowed back to the Silver City?”</p><p>“Yes, you are,” Amenadiel responds mildly. “Gabriel told me that you basically admitted to sending poor, mad Uriel after Lucifer, so that puts his fate squarely on your shoulders as well. Even with a damaged soul, the deaths of <em>two</em> brothers can’t be a weight that’s easy to bear. But given your history of repeated fratricide, I hope you can at least see that letting you go isn’t really a viable strategy right now.”</p><p>“What is this drivel about my soul?” he continues to try to pull his left arm to him and hisses in pain as he feels fresh blood start to flow from the manacle cutting into his skin.</p><p>“Ah, yes, fair warning about being fallen… you also lose your invulnerability—you can bleed, die, or even just get sick. I’d recommend trying to avoid all of the above, it’s simply unpleasant.” His brother smirks at him, and Michael snarls back. “As for the ‘drivel’, as you so charmingly put it… I was saying that we <em>think</em> we know why you’re so… disconnected. When Adam attacked you, Raphael never realized that the blade was one and the same as Azrael’s blade, barring a few pieces. Once I brought that to his attention, he had quite a few theories as to <em>why</em> your wing never healed properly, and how his forced healing of the wound affected you. We’re hoping that Arael’s idea for Lucifer holds true for you.”</p><p>“What idea?” Michael is suddenly very aware of the pain in his shoulders, the fact that his wings aren’t answering his call.</p><p>“When Lucifer had been poisoned with something that targeted his divinity, Arael had the idea of treating him like a languishing garden plot: essentially burning it down and restarting from the ashes. Since the forced healing of the wing wound was the problem, removing your wings seemed to be the most reasonable answer.”</p><p>“Remove—?" His brain flounders to catch up.  “You <em>removed my wings?”</em></p><p>“It was the only way to open the possibilities for healing.” Amenadiel nods, “Now you’ll be able to heal and redeem yourself to reclaim your wings in due time.”</p><p>“Have you always been this sanctimonious, or has it just become more pronounced since your time here on Earth?” Michael jeers. “I’ll admit that I never really paid much attention to you in the Silver City, so I’m finding it impossible to tell.”</p><p>A frown crosses his face, but Amenadiel doesn’t rise to the bait. “I suppose you’ll have time to remember, brother, as we’ll likely be spending a fair amount of time together while you’re here on Earth.”</p><p>“So you’ve cut off my wings, tied me down, and are going to hold me prisoner until I’m healed? Then what?” His tongue flickers across his dry lips. “What else do I have to look forward to with this little plan of yours? Since when has Arael been the sibling to consult on matters of healing, anyway? I’m hardly a damned plant.”</p><p>“Arael has been very helpful with the strange new situations that have been presented lately. Innovative, even.” Amenadiel smiles. “As to the plan for you… well, we have no idea how long your healing will take, or how long before your soul has had a chance to replenish. Arael has already taken your blade back to the Silver City for safekeeping, and once he returns, I’ll speak with Father to see what thoughts he has on the best way to care for you.”</p><p>“To <em>care for me?”</em> Michael snickers. “Maybe I am a plant, after all?”</p><p>"You're not a plant, brother, but life on Earth is far from simple." Amenadiel points out gently. "You're going to need support."</p><p>"Support!" Michael scoffs. "I am the <em>Sword of God</em>, I don't need your support!"</p><p>"You <em>were</em> the Sword of God, Michael," Amenadiel corrects. "Now... you are only... you."</p><p>*</p><p>Chloe enters Maze's apartment, finding the demon and her daughter sitting on the couch, in deep conversation about proper oiling for hell-forged blades. Trixie spots her exiting the stairwell and leaps up excitedly.</p><p>"Can I go see him now??"</p><p>"Yeah babe, we can go up now, just a couple things first, okay?" Chloe kneels to put herself closer to Trixie's eye level. "He's hurt, so we really need to be careful. His shoulder and side are hurt pretty bad, and he's got a cut under his chin but he's healing. And remember, no touching his wings, right?"</p><p>"But he's okay?" Trixie's eyes are wide and concerned, and Chloe squeezes her hand reassuringly.</p><p>"He's just fallen asleep again, but he <em>is</em> healing."</p><p>"Can we go up now?" Trixie pleads again, and Chloe stands, allowing her daughter to drag her into the elevator. She keeps a tight hold on her anxious progeny as the doors open with a chime and reminds her again that Lucifer is sleeping and injured as they move quietly to the bedroom. Ella's perched on the couch in the sitting room and gives Trixie a smiling thumbs-up as they pass. The girl gives her a small smile, but her anxious eyes find the doorway again and don't waver as they climb the stairs, slowly bringing their devil into view. </p><p>Trixie's breath catches as she takes in the bruising and the deep, barely-closed gashes marring his torso. Her grip tightens on her mother's hand, but she doesn't slow her approach. When she reaches the edge of the bed, she releases her hand and climbs up to nestle herself against Lucifer's right side. She carefully wraps her arm around Lucifer's waist, avoiding the slash on his ribs and Lucifer's right wing twitches to surround her in his sleep. </p><p>"Mommy, I'm not technically touching his wings!" Trixie's worried eyes peer at her from over the feathery limb surrounding her. </p><p>"I know baby, just be careful okay?  The feathers can be really sharp." She doesn't have any worries that Lucifer would ever harm Trixie, but if he has a nightmare...</p><p>“S’alright ‘tectv,” Lucifer’s dark eyes peer out from between heavy lashes. “Safe.”</p><p>“Lucifer!” Trixie exclaims softly. “I didn’t mean to wake you up…”</p><p>“Not t’worry, Urchin,” he murmurs. “S’fine.”</p><p>“You’re okay?” she eyes the wounds on his left side worriedly.</p><p>“Will be,” he assures her lethargically. “Here, now.”</p><p>Trixie’s eyes find Chloe’s as Lucifer drifts off again, and Chloe makes a shushing gesture. Trixie nods and stays buried under Lucifer’s wing until he starts to lightly snore, then she carefully extricates herself and scoots back to sit next to her mother. They watch their devil for a few minutes before Trixie bites her lip and grabs her mother’s hand</p><p>“Lucifer’s <em>brother</em> did that to him?” Tears trail down the girl’s cheeks, and Chloe gathers her close. “He’s got another big cut under his chin, right where his scar was!”</p><p>“I know, sweetie,” Chloe whispers quietly. “But Maze, your dad, and Amenadiel caught his brother, and we’re working on figuring out how to keep him from being able to hurt Lucifer again. Lucifer’s healing really well, that’s why he’s so sleepy—healing takes a lot of energy, remember?”</p><p>“Is that why you slept so long after Dad shot you?” Chloe feels her daughter shudder in her embrace, and squeezes her tighter.</p><p>“Your dad shot me on <em>accident</em>, but yes, part of the reason I slept so long was so I could heal… the medicines they gave me at the hospital also made me sleepy. But you remember how fast I healed, right?”</p><p>“Is that how fast Lucifer’s gonna get better?” her face glows with hope, and Chloe smiles gently.</p><p>“We don’t really know,” she admits carefully. “Lucifer’s brother had a special angel sword, and those have more of an effect than a regular bullet. He’s already healed a lot, but we’ll just have to wait and see how he does.”</p><p>“Is he going to come home with us, so we can take care of him again?” Her eager tone makes Chloe laugh.</p><p>“We can ask him, Trix, but he might want to stay here.”</p><p>“Maybe we can go back to his <em>castle!”</em> Her eyes widen in excitement, and Chloe shakes her head indulgently.</p><p>“It’s not <em>really </em>a castle, babe, and it’s too far from your school.” Trixie groans at her response, then claps her hand over her mouth and shoots a glance at the still-sleeping Lucifer. “It’ll mostly depend on how quickly he gets his energy back. We’ll just take it a day at a time. For now, though, I think it's time to think about lunch. I'm starving, and I don't think Lucifer's eaten since, um, since he woke up.”</p><p>"Can we get pizza?" Trixie begs quietly, and Chloe capitulates, because she knows Lucifer loves it, too. They move into the sitting room to place the order, making sure to get enough for everyone else, too.</p><p>Ella and Trixie are talking about Lucifer’s sister Azrael, and Chloe’s watching the entrance to Lucifer’s bedroom when Amenadiel steps out of the lift with a satchel slung over his shoulder and crosses the room to her.</p><p>“Arael’s returned from the Silver City, and he’s taking his turn watching Michael. Raphael sent these back with me, they’re healing salves. I’ve already used them on Michael’s back, and they should help Lucifer, too.” He hands her the satchel and turns to address Ella, who’s deep in conversation with Trixie. “Are you talking about Rae? I’d love to know more about how you two met…”</p><p>Chloe finds herself holding the satchel and ignored by the others, and gratefully takes her opportunity to escape back to Lucifer’s side. She approaches the left side of the bed and settles there, evaluating. His color has improved since this morning, though he’s still a bit pale. The wounds look much the same as they did, though, so she empties the satchel on the mattress next to her and looks through the offerings. She has no idea what any of them do, and they’re not labeled in any language she recognizes. She flips through the half-dozen jars, and chooses the one with the most writing on it. She tentatively dips a fingertip into the salve and feels a cool, tingling sensation that she usually associates with something that has a numbing agent in it.</p><p><em>This one’s a good start then, something to help with the pain. </em>She moves closer, resting her left hip against his and dips her fingers into the unguent, warming it in her hand a little before gently spreading it across the slash on his side. A swiftly inhaled hiss and he stiffens, his eyes fly open and his right hand catches her wrist in an implacable, but gentle grip.</p><p>“Sorry,” she murmurs quietly. “Are you awake? Amenadiel said Raphael gave him these to help with your healing, I was hoping it would cut down on the amount of pain you’re in…”</p><p>“It’s… fine,” he rasps, before clearing his throat. He releases her wrist, continuing softly. “It simply feels… strange. He must have used his gift for these, and I haven’t felt so much divinity in quite a long time. It… stings a little.” He ducks his head as though ashamed to admit to having discomfort, and something twists in Chloe’s gut. She must make some sound, because he quickly looks up and catches her expression, because he’s quick to go on. “It already feels better, though! I think it’s numbing the pain.”</p><p>She shows him the label on the jar, and he nods to himself. “Yes, this should help the discomfort quite a lot. Good choice, Detective, thank you.”</p><p>“Do you want it on the others?”</p><p>“Please?” She feels like it’s a measure of just how much pain he’s in when he doesn’t hesitate in his request, so she doesn’t waste a moment. His wing twitches as she deftly applies the salve to his shoulder, then carefully to the wound on his throat. His sigh of relief eases that twisting feeling in her and her fingers linger, trailing lightly down the side of his neck. “Thank you darling, that’s lovely.”</p><p>“The salve, or this?” She teases him gently, resting her palm against his cheek.</p><p>“Why, both of course,” his eyes slide closed again, but he leans into her touch. He clears his throat again, and winces.</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“I can taste blood.”  Chloe feels a burst of frustration at herself. Once again, they haven’t offered him anything to drink or eat since waking.</p><p>“Let me get you some water,” she pulls away and his eyes open to follow her movement.</p><p>“Any chance of something stronger?” He asks hopefully, and she laughs. <em>That’s my Lucifer.</em></p><p>“Let’s <em>start </em>with the water.” He scoffs at the suggestion, but doesn’t argue further. She does also bring his flask when she comes back, though, and laughs at the way his expression lights up. He reluctantly takes the glass of water from her and sips slowly at first, swishing the liquid around his mouth to try to rid himself of the coppery taste that lingers there. Chloe tries to be unobtrusive, but stays close to help steady the glass if he needs the support. His hand shakes under the slight weight, but he manages to empty the glass before he eyes the flask hopefully.</p><p>“Yes, all right, here,” She removes the lid for him and hands it over, shaking her head affectionately at his little pleased noise as the smooth burn of the whiskey slides down his throat, doing more for banishing the lingering memory of blood than water ever could. “We’ve ordered pizza, I’m sure you’re starving…”</p><p>The elevator chimes and Trixie squeals “Pizza!” excitedly from the living room. Chloe can practically <em>see</em> her daughter clapping her hand over her mouth and glancing guiltily toward the bedroom as Lucifer chuckles. He rolls his shoulders with a slight grimace and his wings fold away slowly. He sighs in relief as their weight lifts from him, even as the energy required to furl them drains away. Chloe helps him resettle against the headboard more comfortably now that his feathery burdens are gone, and is happy to note that his body temperature is nearly back to normal.</p><p>Trixie appears in the doorway of the room with a pizza box and a small stack of paper plates a few minutes later. If she’s disappointed that Lucifer’s wings are no longer present, she’s overjoyed to see him <em>really</em> awake and the three are quickly joined in the room by Ella, who seats herself on the foot of the bed. Amenadiel comes back a little later, having taken some pizza down for Maze, who prefers to stay close to Michael for now. He reports that Arael had inspected the pizza suspiciously and professed himself not hungry, which makes Lucifer chuckle. They keep conversation light over the meal, and just as they’re finishing up, the elevator chimes again and Dan’s voice tentatively rings out with a quiet, “Hello?”</p><p>Chloe’s eyes dart to Trixie, who is watching Lucifer with wide eyes. He takes in their responses and grins reassuringly. “Come on then Daniel, don’t linger in the doorway, it’s rude. We have pizza.”</p><p>A moment later Dan appears in the doorway, pale and shaky but upright and whole. His eyes quickly scan the room before settling on Chloe and Trixie sitting pressed on either side of Lucifer.</p><p>“Hi Daddy,” Trixie says quietly, and everyone pretends not to notice the tears that spring to Dan’s eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay.” She glances up at Lucifer, who winks surreptitiously. She slides off the bed and crosses the room, wrapping her father in a hug. For a moment, he looks as lost as Lucifer ever has when trapped in her embrace before he drops to a knee and pulls her in for a real hug, tears spilling over in earnest now. Lucifer looks away smiling, and catches Ella’s gaze. Her eyes flicker between the two of them and he nods, indicating that they’re working on mending what’s happened between them. Trixie pulls away from Dan and drags him over to the pizza, insisting that he eat. Amenadiel wrestles one of the chairs from the sitting room into the bedroom so they can all have a seat. Dan tears ravenously into his meal, but manages to toss out questions in between mouthfuls.</p><p>“Maze says we got him?”</p><p>“Yes, he’s secured until we can decide what to do with him,” Amenadiel frowns. “I should speak with Father to see if He has any direction on how we should handle this.”</p><p>“I can’t imagine He’ll be any help whatsoever, but of course you’re welcome to try,” Lucifer shrugs his unwounded shoulder. “We could certainly keep him confined in Hell, but if we want his soul to be able to heal sooner rather than later, that’s not ideal. Maybe we’ll be lucky and Dad’ll decide to keep His Right Hand nearby and confine him in the Silver City. I’m really not looking forward to having him ‘round here, even if he <em>is</em> fallen.”</p><p>Chloe agrees completely, but doesn’t say anything, slowly turning the problem over in her mind. Unfortunately, without a weapon to match to Lucifer’s wounds there’s not enough evidence to arrest Michael for what he did, which would have at least solved the problem of confinement for a while. After a moment, Chloe gives up on finding a way to inflict human justice on Lucifer’s evil twin. She brings her attention back to the conversation just in time for Amenadiel to stand and make his exit to the balcony, heading for the Silver City to try for another audience with his father.</p><p>“What do we think his odds of success are?” Ella ventures after a moment.</p><p>“I think Dad’s involvement in this situation maxed out with him allowing Amenadiel to heal Daniel,” Lucifer throws a glance Dan’s way and adds quickly, “Not that I’m not grateful for that, Daniel, though I’d have preferred you not be injured at all!”</p><p>“You and me both, man,” Dan agrees wryly, “but I did what needed to be done. All part of the plan… well, mostly.”</p><p>“Well, we at least accomplished our objective, <em>and </em>you managed to ensure that he won’t be able to impersonate me ever again, so well done there, Daniel.”</p><p>“Did I?” The time just after he launched himself toward the archangel to when he woke up downstairs is completely blank.</p><p>“You did, it was quite heroic,” Lucifer assures him, glancing at Chloe, then Trixie and censoring the story on the fly. “You jumped at Michael with one of Maze’s karambits, got in a good strike across his face. He reeled back and Maze managed to pin him. That blade is hell-forged steel, it will leave quite the satisfying scar.” Lucifer strokes the fresh wound under his chin thoughtfully.</p><p>Trixie starts peppering Dan with questions about his promise to seek help then, and the conversation diverts as they wait for Amenadiel to return.</p><p>*</p><p>Arael seats himself on Amenadiel’s recently vacated stool to watch the sleeping Michael with a sigh of profound relief. His recent return to the Silvery City was fraught with still more interactions with his siblings, all clamoring to hear more about the happenings with Michael. Apparently, having not only Gabriel and Azrael, but <em>Raphael</em> finally on board may finally be enough to turn the tide of Michael’s influence on the host in their favor. Because of this, though, Arael’s visit to deposit Michael’s sword into the armory took far longer than he’d planned. He finally made his way to the armory and left the sword with Remiel, who had also insisted on hearing the complete story. Arael had impatiently given her the bare bones and informed her that she was welcome to visit Earth to get the rest of the details from Amenadiel, or Lucifer himself if she chose. A flicker of shame had crossed his sister’s face.</p><p>“Amenadiel is not likely to welcome a visit from me anytime soon,” she admitted cautiously. “We’ve had a recent… disagreement.”</p><p>Arael had closed his eyes in exasperation. <em>I’m a </em>gardener<em>, not an arbitrator! This is Lucifer’s position, not mine!</em> He’d reluctantly filled in the rest of the story for his contentious sister. By the time he’d finished, even she had been appalled at Michael’s treachery and lack of honor. When he’d finally managed to escape the armory, word had spread that he was there, and he’d exited to find himself facing a sea of siblings wanting to hear the tale for themselves. Only the fact that he <em>knew</em> Lucifer was still unconscious and healing, and that Amenadiel and Azrael were otherwise occupied kept him from pawning the task off onto any or all of them. He’d gestured for them to follow him to his gardens, where he’d settled under a tree at the edge of the largest clearing and began the tale again. Several siblings had approached him individually to ask what their plans for dealing with Michael were, and he didn’t have an answer to share. Raguel—one of their brothers that had worked most closely with Lucifer in his role as arbitrator—was one such, and offered to consult on this situation. His gift with justice would be welcome, and Arael had happily extended an invitation to visit and have a discussion with Lucifer and Amenadiel regarding their planning. Raguel had looked doubtful of his welcome, but Arael had assured him that—at least in his opinion—Lucifer didn’t seem to harbor any ill will toward his siblings, only hurt from being shunned for so very long.</p><p>Not long afterward, Arael had finally managed his escape, and vowed to ask Lucifer about extending his stay on Earth. While he hadn’t minded when Lucifer had asked him about speaking with their Father about facilitating the lifting of his banishment, he hadn’t anticipated becoming the Mouthpiece of the movement. It’s a position he’s ill-suited for, and he definitely needs to talk to… <em>someone</em> about designating another sibling.</p><p><em>Besides, Earth is proving to be fascinating</em>. So many new experiences, and humans—at least, the humans that Lucifer has managed to surround himself with—are delightful. He lets his thoughts drift briefly to a pair of intelligent, sparkling dark brown eyes before his senseless brother shifts in his restraints, groaning and his focus sharpens on his ward.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Between the Devil and the Oncoming Sword</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Trixie and Dan relocate to the sitting room so his daughter can grill him about his intentions and Chloe leaves them to it, focusing instead on Ella and Lucifer’s quiet conversation.</p><p>“Yes,” Lucifer was saying softly, “I told him to run when Michael lunged for me, but instead he leapt straight between us and took Michael’s blow directly across his stomach. Michael was aiming for my throat, that swing would have taken my head off and I was completely unable to block it. It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t remember it, it would have been excruciating.”</p><p>“But he’s fine now?” Ella presses, curious.</p><p>“As I said earlier,” Lucifer reminds her, smiling, “Dear old Dad granted Amenadiel the gift of healing in this instance, so he was able to fix the damage before Daniel managed to bleed out—but it was a near thing.”</p><p>Chloe remembers the size of the bloodstain on the bed and silently agrees, feeling a rush of gratitude for Dan’s resolve to make his amends.</p><p>“Why was he trying to kill you again, anyway?” Ella sighs. “He has to know we’d just keep trying to bring you back?”</p><p>“He’d put a little more thought into it this time,” Lucifer reveals reluctantly. “He was planning to leave some identifiable bits behind so he could still frame Daniel for my death, then dispose of the rest of me in, er, one of my stars.  Probably the sun, since it’s closest.”</p><p>“One of…” Ella stares at him blankly. “One of <em>your</em> stars?”</p><p>“Indeed, Miss Lopez,” he smiles fondly. “The stars are <em>mine</em>, I made them. <em>Light</em> is mine.” He sees the growing spark of curiosity in her eyes and rushes to head her next questions off. “As much as I enjoy discussing them, perhaps that’s a conversation for another day? We do still have many other subjects to address, do we not?”</p><p>“What are we going to do with him?” Chloe blurts out. Ella and Lucifer turn to gaze at her, and she continues into their silence. “We don’t have enough to arrest him. You said we can’t put him in Hell—”</p><p>“Well, we <em>could</em>, but he’d take forever to heal, and his soul may never heal properly. It took mine bloody <em>forever</em> to stop bleeding and rejuvenate, and it only managed that because I kept escaping and stealing some time here, where the divinity isn’t so sealed off as it is in Hell.”</p><p>“Whoa, what happened to your soul?” Ella breaks in.</p><p>“Ah, yes, you missed that part of the tale, Miss Lopez,” Lucifer fills her in on the bare details of his initial Fall, Michael’s role, and his ordeal of trying to heal in Hell with no access to divinity. “I had slightly better chances since I am <em>light</em>, but with Michael being <em>darkness</em>… he’s got an extra factor working against his healing: his darkness repels light, so his healing is already going to take longer.” He heaves a frustrated sigh, wincing as the deep breath pulls the skin around the wounds on his torso.</p><p>“What did that feel like?” Ella breathes. “Damage to your <em>soul…</em> how does that feel?”</p><p>“Hmm,” Lucifer has to think for a moment, and Chloe has a brief flash of shame that <em>she</em> hadn’t thought to ask this question when she heard the full version of the story. “At first, it only feels… strange. And honestly, my experience may well be tainted, because I was a bit distracted by being actively<em> on fire</em> as this was all happening… but now that I really think about it, the sensation was entirely different from the physical pain that took up most of my available attention.” The two women wait quietly while Lucifer tries to put his experience into words. “Miss Lopez, I believe you’re familiar with the effects of hypothermia on the body? It’s… something like that, for the spirit. As you feel it siphoning away you feel shivery and cold—not cold physically, at least not in <em>my</em> case, but… nothing matters. Once enough of it has been lost, you just feel… numb. You… can do things that you normally wouldn’t consider, because that little voice inside you that tells you it’s a bad idea is either unconscious or dead. There’s a kind of freedom in it, in a way—no accountability, no guilt, no… feelings at all, only cold. If you have a purpose, you can focus on it with laser precision, and you’ll be able to do anything you feel necessary to gain it without a second thought.” His eyes are far away, and Chloe fancies that she can see echoes of his battles to win the throne of Hell—not even a purpose he <em>wanted</em>, but was able to gain by wading through rivers of blood and bodies… perhaps <em>because</em> of his damaged soul. Could the man she knows now have been able to do that? <em>Would</em> he?</p><p>She doesn’t doubt that he <em>could</em>, but somehow… she doesn’t think that he <em>would</em>… unless he were protecting someone.</p><p>“And when it starts to heal?” Ella presses, reluctant to ask, but needing to know the answer.</p><p>“You know the pins-and-needles feeling you humans get when a limb goes to sleep?” Lucifer suggests, and Ella nods. “Well, it’s nothing at all like that, but it bloody <em>hurts</em>. As the soul starts to rejuvenate, dormant emotions start to manifest again and… and it’s utterly miserable. From the time of my Fall to the time I arrived here in Los Angeles in 2011, the most time I’d been able to avoid Amenadiel dragging me back had been a couple of weeks. Most visits were a day or less, so my healing wasn’t truly able to complete itself until… well, perhaps until just before I met you, Detective. Or maybe I was even still healing when I met you, I don’t truly know. But I do know that around that time was when I started <em>caring</em> about you lot—and Maze was not at all pleased with that little development. I didn’t have the slightest idea how to deal with everything that was swirling around in my head—dearie me, I still <em>don’t</em> a good part of the time.” He looks at them helplessly. “If it weren’t for Linda, I think… sometimes I think I’m just broken beyond all use or repair.”</p><p>Chloe wraps him in an embrace, and Ella visibly holds herself back from piling another on top. “You’re not broken, Lucifer,” she assures him confidently. “The fact that you’ve healed, and learned so much already <em>proves</em> that, buddy. You’re making progress, and that means you’re <em>not</em> broken, only beat-up like the rest of us. Life has a habit of doing that, I hear it’s character-building.” Her tone is dry, and Lucifer huffs a laugh.</p><p>“Perhaps that’s why my character seems a bit larger-than-life, eh?” he jokes hesitantly, and Chloe snorts softly into his shoulder. “I’ve been building it for an unfathomably long time.”</p><p>*</p><p>Michael awakens while Arael is checking the wound on his face. He opens his eyes and startles to find his brother’s cerulean eyes so close to his, but of course he’s unable to flinch away.</p><p>“Hello, Michael,” Arael smiles. “Are you thirsty? Hungry? Amenadiel tells me that food and fluids are things you’re going to need fairly frequently moving forward, and also warns me that you may not be able to tell the difference between the two right away.”</p><p>“How very helpful to ask me, then,” Michael growls, and Arael chuckles quietly.</p><p>“True,” Arael agrees amiably. “Perhaps we’ll start with a drink, then you can see how you feel. Learning your body’s needs is probably going to take some time.</p><p>“I can’t drink with my head strapped down to this… contraption.” Michael argues, but Arael has a counter for this.</p><p>“On the contrary! Humans are quite innovative. They have these little tubes for drinking. They reduce spillage and also make it possible to drink from otherwise awkward positions, like the one you find yourself in currently. I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out how it works.” Arael holds the cup beneath the rack, with the straw gently bumping against Michael’s dry lips. He tries to sneer, but the sound of the ice rustling in the cup drives something primal in him and he finds himself taking a deep drink, swallowing greedily over and over again. Finally, the straw refuses to provide anymore fluid and an empty rattling sound comes from the cup. “So, definitely thirsty, then. How are you feeling now?”</p><p>Michael starts to give a sarcastic answer when a sharp, stabbing pain erupts from behind his left eye. He cries out in pain and Arael looks at him, confused. Mazikeen bursts through the door at the noise, knives ready, only to find a perplexed Arael watching his bound brother keening in pain for seemingly no reason.</p><p>“What happened?” She demands of the red-haired angel, who shakes his head.</p><p>“He just finished this cup of water—” he rattles the empty ice to accentuate his point. Maze eyeballs the condensation on the cup, then glances at Michael, who has stopped his caterwauling and is slowly opening his eyes again, a pained grimace on his face. She starts to laugh, a deep belly laugh that convulses her entire body until she’s bent over, resting her hands on her knees and gasping for air. Arael transfers his bemused expression to the demon. “What—?"</p><p>“Welcome to humanity, you dick,” Mazikeen whoops, tears of laughter standing in her eyes. “Congratulations, you’ve just had your first brain freeze.”</p><p><em>Brain freeze?</em> Michael’s eyes flick from the demon, to the sweaty cup held loosely in his brother’s hand and connects the dots. “You’re telling me that… that humans can experience this… this <em>agony</em> merely from drinking something cold?”</p><p>“Oh yeah,” Maze purrs contentedly. “You just wait, the ways humans hurt themselves is <em>limitless</em>. Stubbing their toes on furniture, shutting their fingertips in drawers, hitting their elbows or shins on something, oh—papercuts! Oooh, even better—getting alcohol <em>in</em> a papercut! Oh, man, the first time Amenadiel got a hangnail was <em>hilarious</em>… watching you learn to be human is gonna be better than watching <em>Diablo</em>.”</p><p>Michael watches the demon’s glee with trepidation. He doesn’t know what half the things she said actually mean, but it’s clear she’s getting a lot of pleasure out of imagining them happening to him, and that doesn’t bode well for his future. <em>Humans can hurt themselves with </em>paper<em>!? What on Earth was Father thinking, making them so… flimsy?</em> His tongue flickers over his lips again, a new habit, seeing as how it’s practically the only part of his body he can actually move. <em>How long have I been here?  How long will I </em>be<em> here?</em> He won’t even admit to himself that he’s a little afraid to ask, so he just glares.</p><p>Arael watches the exchange, interested in the flash of fear he sees cross Michael’s face. He tries to imagine the uncertainty of Michael’s situation, of losing his powers, his wings…  He can’t fathom what might be going through his brother’s mind… but then he also can’t fathom orchestrating the Fall of a brother, sending another brother to his death, then killing his twin— and then trying to do it <em>again</em>. He shakes his head, trying to pin down the sick feeling of something <em>wrong </em>rearing its head in the pit of his stomach. He hears Dan exit the elevator and head unsteadily back into the bedroom he’d been using. Maze glances in that direction, then looks back at Michael.</p><p>“I can watch him for a bit if you want to go up and see what’s what.”</p><p>Arael glances at Michael once more before nodding and making his way upstairs, where he finds Ella and Trixie chatting on the sofa. Trixie grins at him and waves, and Ella gives him a welcoming smile.</p><p>“Trixie, I trust that your worries for my brother have been adequately put to rest?” He smiles at the small human and she glances back toward the bedroom with only a flicker of worry.</p><p>“Mom says he’s healing, and <em>he</em> says he’ll be okay, so… I guess so.” The girl grimaces and pulls her backpack from behind her. “But Mom says I have to do my homework now, while you guys talk about stuff.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, Trix, you always find out about the important stuff anyway,” Ella pats her arm reassuringly. “You know your mom and Lucifer won’t lie to you, at least.”</p><p>“But they don’t always <em>tell</em> me everything, either!” She protests vehemently.</p><p>“Sometimes some secrecy is vital to success, youngling,” Arael points out carefully. “It’s better to accept that secrets are sometimes necessary and rest in knowing that what you <em>do</em> know is the truth, than to have to worry about being constantly misdirected by friendly-sounding untruths.”</p><p>Trixie considers this for a long moment, before nodding thoughtfully. “You’re right, Arael. I’d rather know part of the truth and maybe be able to work out the rest for myself than be lied to.”</p><p>“Well then, work on this housework, and rest assured that you’ll be informed of the bits you need to know.”</p><p><em>“Homework</em>”, Trixie giggles. “It’s homework. Housework is something else.”</p><p>“Homework, then,” Arael agrees affably, as Ella laughs alongside the girl. “Miss Ella, it is good to see you again, and looking happier.”</p><p>“I’m under just a little bit less stress than I was last time we met,” she smiles up at him. “My best friend isn’t dead anymore, and… while we’ve still got plenty of problems to deal with, I’ve been able to unload a little bit of my baggage, so I’m feeling more positive now.”</p><p>“I’m delighted to hear it,” he assures her earnestly. “I was hoping to speak with Lucifer—”</p><p>“Come on, then, brother,” Lucifer’s voice drifts in from the bedroom. “I was merely waiting for you to finish your niceties. You as well, Miss Lopez, as you wish.”</p><p>Arael offers his hand to the forensic scientist, and she accepts it as he gently tugs her up from the couch, tucking her hand securely in the bend of his elbow. Lucifer lifts his eyebrow at the pair of them as they pass through the doorway, and Ella winks a sparkling eye at him as they separate and settle into the chairs pulled near the foot of the bed. Arael opens his mouth to speak, and Chloe interjects before he can.</p><p>“Please don’t ask him how he’s feeling. He doesn’t like it, and we’ll waste 10 minutes while he <em>tells</em> us how much he doesn’t like it.” Lucifer quirks a brow at her and feigns a scowl, but Arael can tell that he’s glad she stopped the question before it was uttered, and Ella giggles at the interaction between the two.</p><p>“All right then, I appreciate the warning, Chloe.” Arael smirks at his brother. “I <em>am</em> glad to see you awake, Lucifer. You appear to be healing well.”</p><p>“Yes,” Lucifer agrees softly. “Amenadiel shared some of Raphael’s theories about that. I’m not certain I believe it, but… well. Something is certainly different from the <em>last</em> time I was wounded with a celestial weapon, and it’s unlikely that it’s <em>all </em>location-related.”</p><p>“What are Raphael’s theories?” Arael leans forward in his seat, interested.</p><p>“Apparently, injuries from celestial weapons heal best with exposure to the light of divinity and… love.”</p><p>Arael nods slowly. The Silver City is heavily laden with both, it could certainly explain why Lucifer’s body was healing there at a faster rate. “But you didn’t heal this quickly last time, when you were—?"</p><p>“No. Granted, I had quite a lot of other things coming into play there, I was in Hell, where divinity is so scarce it may as well have been extinct. And love… well. I was also burning, and my soul was hemorrhaging, so… my healing may have needed to triage itself a bit.”</p><p>“But you’ve been in Heaven, and now you’re here on Earth, where you do have people that love you—”</p><p>“Apparently,” Lucifer quips, and both Ella and Chloe both shoot mock-scowls at him.</p><p>“—so your healing is accelerated. That makes good sense.”</p><p>“It does,” Lucifer agrees, and Arael hides a smile as he notices that his fingers are intertwined with his Detective’s. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t help us figure out what we’re going to do with Michael. We’ve only got one fallen angel’s experience to pull from to try to figure out how best to manage him.”</p><p>“I might be able to tell you a few things. Hopefully Amenadiel will know more when he returns from his audience with Father… and perhaps Raphael may even be willing to evaluate him for us, now that he’s coming around.” Chloe’s gaze focuses on him like a laser, while Lucifer lifts his brows in interested inquiry. Ella leans in, her expression rapt. “Michael is severely weakened. I know the chains are hell-forged, but he hasn’t been able to do any damage to the rack itself and I believe that is of Earthly origin, yes?” Lucifer nods, and Arael continues. “The cuffs are cutting into his wrists when he pulls too hard, and his wounds are not healing as quickly as angelic flesh normally would, even with hell-forged steel. He was <em>very </em>thirsty when I offered him a drink earlier, and when he drank the ice water too quickly, he suffered something Mazikeen referred to as a ‘brain freeze’?”</p><p>Chloe and Ella both suck in sympathetic breaths, while Lucifer looks confused. Arael shrugs, and can only offer, “Apparently it’s something humans can experience if they drink something cold too quickly?”</p><p>“It happens if you eat something cold too quickly too,” Ella explains. “The blood vessels in the brain constrict, then swell and the nerves get a little sensitive and cause a super-sharp headache… but it usually doesn’t last very long.”</p><p>Arael nods, as though this isn’t a terrible design flaw. “He also attempted to use his Command on both myself and Amenadiel, with no response from us. So, we don’t know if his powers are completely gone, but he’s at least significantly diminished. I deposited his sword into the armory myself, which is currently in the care of Remiel, so I think we don’t need to worry about him coming after <em>you</em> anytime soon, Lucifer… unless he manages to get hold of one of Mazikeen’s special weapons.”</p><p>“Yes, we thought of that,” Chloe sighs. “Maze has agreed to hide them away in a secure location until we find a solution.”</p><p>“Are we any closer to <em>finding</em> a solution?” Arael asks hopefully.</p><p>“I’ve got a suggestion for a starting point,” Ella offers, and all eyes turn to her. “Can we get Linda to evaluate him? I mean, I haven’t talked to the guy, but everything you’ve said has pushed some profiling buttons for me. If Linda can verify my suspicions, we might have an option for him that doesn’t involve turning <em>us</em> into his jailers, at least until his soul, er, grows back.”</p><p>“We can ask her,” Lucifer replies, intrigued. “If one of my brothers is willing to sit in on the session, that is—I’m not comfortable leaving the Doctor alone with Michael, even if he <em>is </em>restrained and possibly powerless. I think having me sit in would be less than helpful… he’s particularly antagonistic toward me, and—”</p><p>“—and you wouldn’t be able to keep your thoughts to yourself?” Chloe suggests with a fond smirk.</p><p>“I was <em>going</em> to say I wouldn’t want to trigger him into anything… but your observation is probably just as accurate.” Lucifer languidly waves his hand in the air, and Arael can tell that his current energy is waning fast.</p><p>“Lucifer, I wanted to ask you if there was any one of our siblings you might prefer to ask to be your mouthpiece in the Silver City?” Arael’s blue eyes light with hope as his brother appears to consider. “You know I’m not, ah, socially adept, and every time I’ve gone back to the Silver City since this started I’ve been approached about your situation and story. Having Gabriel, and now Raphael become advocates of the truth is helping immensely, but… I’d hate to put a weed in the garden by being less than approachable to our siblings.”</p><p>“Bit overwhelming isn’t it,” Lucifer commiserates, “Finding yourself at the center of attention after so long on the outskirts, eh brother?” He thinks for a moment, running through options. “Gabriel is probably too intimidating. What about Phanuel, what’s she up to these days?”</p><p>“She’s actually the one that came to the Garden to warn me that Michael was looking for your body,” Arael admits, relieved. “I don’t think she has anything pressing, and she’s got a good reputation for truthfulness and impartiality. Can I send her to you, brother?”</p><p>Lucifer sighs, closing his eyes. “Yes, that’s probably best. She already knows my story from you, she can ask me anything she needs clarification on, and I’ll see if she’d be willing to bear the story to anyone that asks. Thank you Arael… I don’t know where I would be right now without your help.”</p><p>“I’ve missed you brother, perhaps even more than I had realized.” He brushes back his coppery curls, unsettled at the personal turn to the conversation. “I had also wanted to ask if you would be… opposed to my staying here on Earth for a while? The Silver City has suddenly become smaller, with everyone wanting to speak with me so suddenly, and… I find the climate here to be to my liking.”</p><p>Lucifer notices the quick dart of Arael’s eyes in Miss Lopez’s direction, but doesn’t voice his observation. “I’m sure we can find a place for you, brother. If you’d like to use my guest room for the time being, you’re most welcome. Maze’s apartment below this level will be available once we find a solution for Michael, or… Hmm.. I do have an estate just outside the city—it’s got a magnificent greenhouse that’s sitting fallow at the moment.” Arael perks up at the mention of that, and Lucifer smiles to himself. <em>Of course Arael wouldn’t feel comfortable in a city, he needs to feel soil under his hands and feet in order to feel connected. It’s a wonder Eve tolerates the city as well as she does, Arael would start going mad without a garden to work in. </em>“Perhaps we can visit that property once I’ve got more energy, then.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Arael begins, but Lucifer waves him off.</p><p>“Nonsense,” he mutters. “You don’t need <em>my </em>permission to stay, we’ve all got free will and I am not Earth’s keeper. But if you prefer to remain nearby, I’d be delighted to host you.”</p><p>“So,” Ella breaks in eagerly, “Current plan is: we’re waiting for Amenadiel to see if the Big Guy has any input on Michael’s handling, we need to see if Linda’s willing to evaluate Michael, and someone needs to go find Phanuel and see if she’s willing to come talk to Lucifer and become his advocate upstairs?”</p><p>“That is an accurate summation, Miss Lopez,” Lucifer concurs sleepily. “I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to remain awake much longer… was there anything else pressing to address?” Chloe’s glare indicates to the other two that only acceptable answer here is—</p><p>“No, I think that will do for now,” Arael appeases Chloe’s glare. “I’ll go back downstairs and relieve Mazikeen of watching our brother. I’ll also try praying to Phanuel.”</p><p>“And I’ll call Linda,” Ella offers, pulling out her phone. “She can let me know if my thoughts are way off base, or maybe she’d prefer to go in without hearing my suspicions first, I dunno.”</p><p>“If Dr. Martin consents to evaluate our brother before Amenadiel returns, I can sit with them to ensure her safety,” Arael stands and turns to go. “Please let me know if you need anything from me while we’re waiting.”</p><p>Ella follows him down the steps, already dialing Linda. Chloe watches Lucifer fight to keep his eyes open and shakes her head at him.</p><p>“C’mon Lucifer, lets get you laying down, you’ll be more comfortable than dozing sitting up like that.”</p><p>He obediently slumps over onto his right side, sliding in slow motion down the headboard until his body is laying along the pillows and his back braced against the headboard. Chloe chuckles and grabs his ankles, gently tugging him into a more normal sleeping position. She rearranges the blanket over him and sits next to him, holding his hand for a moment until his breathing deepens into true sleep. Once she’s satisfied she won’t disturb him by moving away, she brushes a kiss to his forehead and reluctantly disentangles their fingers to go check on Trixie.  </p><p>Her daughter is packing away her completed homework and chatting with Ella when she enters the room, and both look up at her guiltily.</p><p>“Okay, spill,” She lifts an eyebrow at the two obvious conspirators. “What are you plotting?”</p><p>*</p><p>Dan runs his fingers over his stomach again, convincing himself that there’s no injury there. He’d awakened with only a headache and a thirst so deep he’d headed straight to the first faucet he found and drank straight from the tap for several minutes before he’d felt satisfied. Then he’d wandered the halls until Maze had emerged from a room to enlighten him as to where he was, and where he could find the others.</p><p>“I’d go with you, but I’ve gotta keep an eye on Michael.”</p><p>“He’s in there?” Dan had eyed the door warily.</p><p>“Yep,” Maze grunted in satisfaction. “He’s not going anywhere.”</p><p>So Dan had headed up in the elevator and met with the others for a brief discussion before his daughter dragged him away to ask about his progress on his promise to seek therapy.</p><p>When he’d walked in the bedroom and seen his family nestled snugly against the Devil, he’d been relieved that he hadn’t felt fear. When Trixie had called him <em>Daddy</em> again and come to hug him, he hadn’t missed Lucifer’s encouragement, or his pleased smile when Dan melted into his daughter’s embrace.</p><p><em>I guess if the Devil’s part of my extended family now, it’s a good thing he’s on my side.</em> Dan admits to himself as he lays back in the bed he’d woken in earlier, his bout of energy completely expended in the short time he’d been awake. His eyes slide closed, but his brain keeps humming, preventing him from sleeping.</p><p><em>It doesn’t make sense, that Satan has been here on Earth fighting crime and… and just trying to enjoy his life for last however many years, then his freaking archangel twin shows up with these evil plans.</em> A flash of Michael’s menacing approach plays behind his closed eyelids, and Dan suddenly vividly recalls the flat, cold rage in those eyes as he’d lunged for Lucifer… The entire scene that had mercifully eluded him before now replays in its entirety, causing his heart to gallop and his breathing to come in shallow, heaving gasps.</p><p>He’d positioned himself against the far wall with a good view of the door, as they’d planned. Dan had become a little sidetracked with his conversation with Lucifer, and had nearly missed Michael’s entrance, but had remembered to freeze in place as Maze had told him.<em> (“Michael commands fear, and he doesn’t think much of humans to start with. If you pretend you’re paralyzed just at the sight of him, he probably won’t bother even spending any extra effort </em>trying<em> to scare you into submission.”)</em></p><p>Michael had stalked into the room, calling Lucifer by a different name and delighting in the terrible things he’d already done, not to mention the things he planned to do. When he’d unfurled his wings, Dan had flinched in shock. These balding, diseased-looking limbs looked absolutely <em>nothing</em> like the glowing, healthy appendages Lucifer had unfurled to protect Ella. When Lucifer had revealed his new wings, the surprisingly comforting sight of them had dispelled Dan’s shock enough that he’d been ready to make his move when Michael lunged. He hadn’t quite anticipated the reach of the sword, though. Dan remembers now, Lucifer shouting at him to run, but instead throwing himself in front of that lunge, the blade biting deep into his gut. The terrible pulling, tearing sensation as the blade glided through him without resistance, leaving a horrible burning agony in its wake as hot blood cascaded from the gash. Remembers glimpsing Maze’s sudden appearance, her economical removal of the ragged wings of their attacker and his subsequent face-plant on the floor, pinned by the demon. He can hear Lucifer’s panicked distress at his injury, the frustrated confusion at Dan placing himself between the Devil and the oncoming Sword. He can smell the metallic scent of his blood, and feel Lucifer’s unsteady fingers trying to close the slippery gash and apply feeble pressure in an attempt to save him. What had happened next is washed away in a bloom of intense light, and he can only assume that’s the moment that Amenadiel had healed him.</p><p>Dan considers the two beings, identical if you didn’t look too closely at mannerisms, and wonders for the first time if history had gotten it wrong. Wonders if perhaps “Saint Michael” had manipulated the narrative so that “Satan” got all the blame, and <em>he</em> got all the glory. This unnerving thought follows him down into restless sleep, where he thankfully doesn’t recall his dreams.</p>
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<a name="section0021"><h2>21. That Does Seem a Bit Extreme</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Amenadiel finds himself again at the door to his father’s workshop, waiting to see if he’ll be granted entry. As he waits, various siblings approach, wanting to sate their curiosity about the recent upheavals regarding their fallen brother. He speaks with them all, using his vast stores of patience to address the same questions again and again. Eventually, Raphael and Gabriel appear, dispelling the slight congregation around him.</p><p>“Brothers,” Amenadiel greets cheerfully, “I had hoped to be able to speak to you both while I was here.”</p><p>“How fortuitous,” Raphael comments dryly, “We wanted to get an update from you.”</p><p>Amenadiel glances at the closed workshop door, then back at his brothers. “Well, I’m certain I have time, since I’m waiting for an audience with Father. Do you mind if we speak here?”</p><p>Amenadiel brings his brothers up to date on the current situation with Michael, ending with a request.</p><p>“We’re still trying to figure out what to <em>do</em> with him,” he admits candidly. “We don’t have enough hard evidence for human law enforcement to lock him up, and we can’t just keep him chained up at Lux. He would heal <em>faster</em> here, where the divinity is more concentrated. Please, brothers—if you can think of anywhere here he could be held until he’s no longer a danger, we could really use the help.”</p><p>“And if he were here, I could monitor his healing more closely, now that I have a better idea what to watch for…” Raphael muses, exchanging a glance with Gabriel. “I’ll consider what options we may be able to provide.”</p><p>“Arael has also informed me that they’re going to ask Dr. Linda Martin to evaluate Michael’s mental state,” Amenadiel adds, “and they had also considered asking you if you’d like to either perform your own evaluation, or observe Dr. Martin’s?”</p><p>“This is the Doctor that I met while assessing the f—Lucifer?” Amenadiel’s eyebrows lift at Raphael’s use of Lucifer’s name… and his <em>chosen name</em> at that. “She seemed intelligent, for a human.”</p><p>“Yes,” Amenadiel replies mildly, not letting his brother’s lack of consideration for humanity ruffle him… much. “She’s been helping Lucifer for years, and is very insightful.”</p><p>“It… would be interesting to observe her evaluation of Michael,” he muses. “He may be more responsive to someone who is not a relative.”</p><p>“I’ll let you know when we can set it up, then.”</p><p>Raphael nods, already thinking about possible places to secure a healing-but-potentially-dangerous archangel. Gabriel glances at Raphael’s far-away expression and shakes his head, exasperated.</p><p>“Thank you for the update. I’ll be sure to let you know if I think of a place for Michael to heal… in seclusion.”</p><p>“Seclusion would probably be safest—at least until his soul has had a real chance to rejuvenate. I’m hoping Father can provide some help, or at least an idea of what to expect there, as well.” Amenadiel glances hopefully back at the silent door.</p><p>“We’ll leave you to it, then,” Gabriel takes his leave, guiding the distracted Raphael along with him. “We’ll be in touch, Amenadiel.”</p><p>Amenadiel has just settled back into waiting patiently when a new, quiet voice at his shoulder causes him to turn.</p><p>“Hello, brother,” Phanuel’s crystal blue eyes look up at him boldly. “I hoped you might have some time to speak to me about the situation with Lucifer and Michael, as Arael has asked me to be the mouthpiece of the true story here in the Silver City.”</p><p>*</p><p>Linda shakes her head and smiles inwardly as she steps into the elevator at Lux.</p><p><em>How on Earth did I wind up in </em>this<em> situation?</em> She considers all the choices she’s made that have led her here, to this moment: in an elevator on her way to sessions with the Devil, a Miracle, a potentially evil Archangel, and a man severely traumatized by at least two of the three. Lucifer had essentially “bought out” all her appointments for this Monday, with the reasoning that if she was going to have to make housecalls for himself and his twin, at least she could make a day of it, and not be running to Lux several times.</p><p>And yet, even with all the added stress – including the pending <em>angel-baby</em> dilemma—she honestly wouldn’t change any of those choices. She’s never been a part of something so fascinating, never had a better, closer set of friends than she’s found since she began working with Lucifer. And watching him learn, grow, and start to accept himself… while terrifying (and exasperating) at times, she feels an almost-parental swell of pride in him, at how far he’s managed to come against truly debilitating circumstances.</p><p>The elevator doors slide open with a soft chime at the penthouse level, which is showing some signs of the havoc that’s been wreaked here over the past few days. The piano is missing—destroyed during Michael’s rampage, according to Maze—the glass shelves are sitting empty waiting for replacement bottles of Lucifer’s favorite whiskies, and small signs of fresh repairs are scattered here and there.</p><p>A child’s sweater is tossed over the back of the settee, and some glasses and napkins are strewn about—probably left from dinner last night or a hurried breakfast this morning before Chloe rushed Trixie off to school. Linda’s a little early, but she had wanted to get a head start on the day. She checks her phone, nearly 10 AM. Lucifer’s session isn’t technically scheduled to start until 11, but she had cleared her schedule after her 8:30 session so she could mentally prepare for the multiple challenges ahead. She takes one more look around the sitting room and turns toward the bedroom entrance just as Chloe appears in the doorway there.</p><p>“Linda!” She welcomes her friend and therapist warmly, but quietly, glancing over her shoulder toward the still form on the bed. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon, I thought his appointment was at 11.”</p><p>“Oh, it is. But he asked me to book several sessions today—his usual one, along with ones for Dan, for evaluating Michael, and he thought you might want to speak with me as well? I’ve also extended an invitation to Ella for a session, if she has time and wants to talk.”</p><p>“Oh, Linda…” tears fill Chloe’s blue-gray eyes, and one beads and dashes down her left cheek. “What did we do to deserve you?”</p><p>“Oh, just wait,” Linda grins mischievously at her friend. “One day in the not-too-distant future I’ll be asking you for angel-babysitting services, and then I’m sure we’ll be even.”</p><p>Chloe laughs softly and moves from entrance with one more look over her shoulder. “How have you been feeling? I know the second trimester can be a challenge.”</p><p>“Overall, I feel great. Occasional dizziness, and of course having to run to the bathroom <em>all the time</em>—but thankfully morning sickness hasn’t been a thing at all.” Linda places a protective palm over her steadily-growing bump, and Chloe smiles warmly at the familiar gesture.</p><p>“Do you want some tea?” she offers. “I know he’s got some here somewhere, but I’ll have to dig for it to see what it is. He knows I like herbals, so I’m <em>sure</em> he’s got some of those on-hand.”</p><p>“Thanks, but I’m good. I’ll want some water handy when we start the sessions, though.” Linda glances at the doorway Chloe had emerged from. “Is he asleep?”</p><p>“He’s been in and out since we got him back. Apparently fatal levels of blood loss take some time to recover from, even for a former archangel, and celestial wound healing takes a lot of energy.” Chloe worries her bottom lip between her teeth, then continues softly. “He just dozed off again about 20 minutes ago. It’s scary, Linda, seeing him so… weak. It reminds me of when he got poisoned.”</p><p>Linda mentally nods to herself. She’d thought this situation would be triggering for both of them, on multiple levels. Maybe they’d even have time today for a joint session. Both Lucifer and Chloe had brought up that they were interested in having at least one to help them rebuild their trust in one another, but a time hadn’t presented itself yet.</p><p>“How about this… you catch me up on what I’ve missed, and if he’s not awake by 11, we can do your session, or Dan’s if you’re not ready. I’ve booked out the rest of my day for this, so we’ve got <em>plenty</em> of time.”</p><p>Forty-five minutes later, Linda is silently vowing to find a way to strangle Amenadiel. <em>He was supposed to keep me informed of everything that was going on!</em> Turns out, her unborn angel-baby’s daddy has a protective streak, and she’d been missing quite a <em>lot</em> of pertinent information. Between her talks with Ella and what Chloe has just told her about Michael, Linda now has a fair idea of what she’s going to be up against during his evaluation. She’s very glad Arael had offered to sit in with her… the idea of being alone in the room with the possibly-deranged Sword of God, even if he <em>is </em>fallen, is not something she would be comfortable with.</p><p>Chloe goes to check on Lucifer, but returns immediately to report that he’s still out for the count. Since she’s already filled Linda in on most of what’s been going on with her, she offers to take the 11 o’clock slot. Linda casts a glance at the entrance to the bedroom and agrees, settling in for their session.</p><p>“All right, Chloe, you’ve told me what’s been happening… so let’s start discussing how you’re <em>feeling</em>.”</p><p>“This weekend feels like it’s lasted a month,” Chloe sighs. “I told Lucifer just as he was waking from… as he was waking up that when this is over, we’re taking a vacation.”</p><p>“That sounds like a good idea… some time to just <em>be</em> together. You’ve nearly lost each other several times in the past couple of months—in more ways than just physical danger. Do you… want to talk about that?”</p><p>Chloe flinches. Linda knows this is still a very tender subject, but she’s worried—and knows that Lucifer is also worried—about the amount of guilt Chloe is still carrying for her initial involvement with the priest that had resulted in Lucifer’s poisoning. </p><p>“I can’t help thinking that he forgave me too easily,” Chloe confesses unhappily. “He nearly <em>died</em> because of what I did… and then I sent him back to Hell without even letting him explain himself—what kind of person <em>does</em> that, Linda??”</p><p>“You’ve told me before what you were feeling during those events—fear, anxiety, and insecurity are strong motivators for acting in irrational ways, Chloe. Do you think your communication with Lucifer is better now than it was before?” Linda leans back in the chair, lifting her eyebrows at Chloe as she waits for her to consider her answer.</p><p>“I’m… not sure. I feel like maybe I can read him better now—no, wait, that’s not right.” Chloe shakes her head, holding up her hands. “I’m reading him exactly the same as I have been… but now I’m not arguing with myself about <em>what</em> I’m reading because I know more about him. Before, it was like my heart was always conflicting with my mind, and it would skew how I reacted.  Does that make any sense?”</p><p>“It does. Your subconscious understanding was telling you things that your conscious mind didn’t want to recognize, and so got shut down in the process—resulting in a short circuit.”</p><p>“Yes!” Chloe pounces on the slightly more succinct explanation of what she was trying to convey. “And the more he would try to clarify, the angrier I would get, because I would feel like he was playing with me, or was hiding behind his—”</p><p>“—metaphors.” Linda finishes with her, smiling gently. “Well, we <em>both</em> know better now, don’t we?”</p><p>“We do,” Chloe assures her, chuckling. “I swear, for every question he answers, three more spring from it.”</p><p>“Yes, well, take it from someone a couple years in—that hasn’t changed for me yet.”  Chloe groans good-naturedly, and Linda moves to steer the conversation back on track. “And you have even more to adjust to than I did… how are you handling your new divinity, and your Link?”</p><p>“I wish we had a better term for it than ‘divinity’,” Chloe laughs self-consciously. “It… doesn’t really seem to do much most of the time, it’s just a warmth that kind of sits near my heart. It flares into a bright light from time to time, usually when Lucifer’s nearby, or… or if I draw on it.”</p><p>“How does that work?” Linda’s curiosity can’t be denied, and she leans forward to catch Chloe’s response.</p><p>“Well… I’m not entirely sure. Sometimes it feels like a negotiation… not too different from working with Lucifer, honestly.” She chuckles again, and continues. “Other times, it’s acted on its own—with the healing and getting rid of my scars. And other times I’ve only needed to ask it for help, explaining what I need—like when it gave me wings to go get Lucifer from Hell. Occasionally… apparently I’ve been drawing on it without realizing it sometimes.”</p><p>“Oh? How so?”</p><p>“Amenadiel told me yesterday that he’s seen my eyes flash red a few times… when I’ve been in a particularly vengeful mood, apparently. He told me that Lucifer and I are both punishers at heart, but he seemed really surprised to see that happen. I know <em>Dan</em> was.”</p><p>“<em>Dan</em> saw your eyes glow red?” Linda’s concern is thick in her voice, and Chloe nods.</p><p>“He seemed to take it pretty well… that was <em>before</em> he took the sword wound for Lucifer, so if he’s freaking out about it, at least it doesn’t seem like he’s blaming it on Lucifer…”</p><p>Linda sighs heavily, adding this to the list of things she wants to be sure to discuss with Dan. She definitely wants to help him avoid any further acting out on his part if she can.</p><p>“And how’s Trixie coping with all this?” Linda drags herself back to the current session by force of will. <em>This is why we’re not supposed to counsel friends, Linda, </em>she lectures herself fiercely.</p><p>“Now that Dan’s been able to show her that he’s actually working on following through with his promises and issues… she seems to be doing okay.” Chloe doesn’t seem completely convinced, and Linda pushes on that a little harder. “I’m afraid she’s not getting a chance to be a kid. She’s really worried about Lucifer, all the time. He’s been great about reassuring her, and he’s never said an unkind word about my actions, or even Dan’s—aside from acknowledging that we’ve made mistakes and are working on fixing them, which is exactly what we’ve told her.”</p><p>“So, knowing the truth of Lucifer and Maze being something other than human—?"</p><p>“Oh that—” Chloe laughs again, a genuine one this time. “<em>She</em> knew before any of us did. She believed Lucifer right from the beginning, when he used his “glowy eyes” to scare off a bully that had been picking on her about four seconds after he met her, and she saw Maze’s face not long after we moved in together and just went right along with it. She’s even more protective of Lucifer now, after she heard the story behind his Fall and what happened when he arrived in Hell—"</p><p>“How did she hear that? Something she found online?” Linda thinks about the writhing mass of misinformation on the internet, and shudders inwardly.</p><p>“No, Lucifer told us earlier this week—”</p><p>“Okay, say what?” Linda had been trying to get him to open up about Hell for ages… and while he would always answer her questions, he always got so agitated that she would let him redirect onto a safer topic to avoid further trauma.</p><p>“It was Thursday afternoon, before this most recent drama started. We went to Lux to surprise him and Arael and Azrael were there—they needed to be informed of the story so that they’d be ready if God decided to consult them about how to re-introduce Lucifer to Heaven. He said he toned it down quite a lot since Trixie was there, but Linda… it was enough that <em>all</em> of us were crying at what he told us, the angels included. And… and he just seemed confused that we were upset.” Chloe’s eyes are tearing up at the memory of the anguished expression on his face, afraid he’d said the wrong thing again and caused her pain when her pain had been <em>on his behalf.</em> “He still seems to have trouble believing that others care about what’s happened to him.”</p><p>“Mmm,” Linda hums noncommittally, wanting to avoid discussing Lucifer’s mannerisms.</p><p>“The way he talked about it… Linda, it was just heart-wrenching. He was lost in the memories, and his voice was just so… detached. Like he was describing something that had happened to someone else.” Linda nods to herself as Chloe speaks, making a note to ask Lucifer about it during his session if they have time today. Who knows, maybe he’ll be able to open up again, now that he has once already. “And then when he came out of the memory, he tried downplaying it because he noticed Trixie and I were upset, and… and I really just wanted to hunt down most of his family members and just… <em>punch them</em>.”</p><p>Linda hides her smile; she’s had to hide that same reaction with a few of the things Lucifer has off-handedly mentioned during sessions in the past. Honestly, how could <em>God</em>, the guy who literally <em>created</em> emotions and memories and reactions... how <em>could</em> he be so dense, so <em>callous</em> with his own family? With his supposed favorite son? But… as Lucifer reminded her so long ago, she should stick within her realm of experience and <em>not</em> try to second-guess the literal creator of the universe. That would probably only result in her mind imploding.</p><p>“That’s an understandable protective reflex… though perhaps a bit outside the realm of possibility at the moment, there, Chloe.” Linda jests lightly. “Maybe we should focus on the issues at hand before you go hunting down the Heavenly Host one by one to punch them in the face?”</p><p>Chloe grumbles, but doesn’t argue. She glances at the doorway to Lucifer’s room just as the quiet alarm goes off, indicating that her hour-long session is nearly over, and Linda sighs. “Did you have anything further you wanted to address today, Chloe?”</p><p>“I was going to ask about Ella’s plan for Michael—”</p><p>“We can discuss that <em>outside</em> your session time. I’d prefer to focus on <em>your</em> needs during your time. Have you thought any more about scheduling a joint session with Lucifer, or do you feel like you two are working it out on your own?”</p><p>“He’s brought it up a couple of times. <em>I</em> think we’re doing pretty well, but I think he’s really worried that he’s going to say or do one wrong thing and I’m going to vanish into thin air…” she closes her eyes, and her mouth twists into a nauseated expression. “Which is fair, since I’ve done that to him twice in very recent history. So… I’m willing if he still wants to do it. <em>I’m</em> the one that broke the trust first, and obviously telling him that I’m not going anywhere isn’t going to do any good since I’ve already broken that promise twice. I’m going to have to figure out how to <em>prove it</em>.”</p><p>“It takes time to rebuild trust, Chloe, and I <em>do</em> think that you’ve both made a good start on it.” Linda assures her gently. “I’ll ask him during his session later. We may even have time today, if you’re both up to it—I know he’s sleeping a lot while he’s healing. Do you want to see if he’s awake? If he’s still sleeping, I’ll head down to see Dan.”</p><p>Chloe stands and heads for the entrance, shaking her head back at Linda with a soft smile. Still sleeping, then. Linda stands from the low chair—that’s getting more difficult as time passes, but she still manages without feeling <em>too</em> ungainly… for now.</p><p>“All right, I’ll be back up when I’m done with Dan’s session. I’m hoping to speak with Lucifer before I tackle Michael, and I’ll need to wait for Raphael to arrive anyway, since he apparently wants to listen in on my interview with him.”</p><p>Chloe doesn’t envy her that interview, having been on the receiving end of Michael’s attention a few times now. But, if anyone can handle him, it’s Linda. The doctor paces into the elevator and takes it down to Maze’s level, and Chloe retreats back to the bedroom, taking comfort in remaining close to her Devil.</p><p>*</p><p>She steps off the elevator on Maze’s apartment level and finds Dan in the open room curled on the couch, while Maze paces the room languidly, chatting on her phone. Maze lifts her chin at Linda in greeting, but doesn’t offer to end her call. Dan sits up as she approaches, eagerly making room for her on the couch.</p><p>“Dr. Martin!” his smile is wan, but genuine, and she finds herself returning it without reservations. He nods at Maze, who is disappearing down the hall into one of the rooms there. “It’s Eve’s lunch break. Is it time for our session?”</p><p>“I’m playing a bit loosely today. Lucifer is still asleep, so I’ve just finished Chloe’s, and thought we’d do yours now, if you’re ready. I’m hoping to speak with Lucifer before I tackle Michael’s evaluation, and we’ll have to wait for Raphael for that, anyway.” Dan nods his head rapidly, and she gathers he’s eager to begin. “Do you want to stay out here, or is there somewhere you’re more comfortable?”</p><p>“Ah, well,” Dan thinks for a moment before making a decision. He gestures at a nearby door. “Michael’s right through that door there, and I’m not sure how good his hearing is right now. Arael’s in there too, and I <em>know</em> he can hear us.”</p><p>“We both can,” comes Arael’s soft voice from behind the closed door. “And so can Mazikeen.”</p><p>“Yup!” Maze’s voice calls from down the hall.</p><p>Linda and Dan glance at each other and start to chuckle.</p><p>“All right,” she suggests. “How about we go down to the club level and use one of the booths there? I think they’re closed for the moment, yeah?”</p><p>“Good deal,” Dan agrees, relieved.</p><p>Dan paces in the elevator on the way down, and they settle into one of the tables. Linda doesn’t keep him waiting, since he’s radiating the need to talk about something.</p><p>“Well. How are you feeling after your ordeal?”</p><p>“Physically, I’m feeling pretty good,” Dan’s fingers gingerly brush across his stomach in what’s probably an unconscious gesture, tracing the path the sword had taken. “Just a little shaky and sleeping a lot, which Amenadiel and Arael tell me is normal for, uh, divine healing.” He looks embarrassed just saying the words, and Linda sympathizes with a smile.</p><p>“And otherwise?” Linda presses gently, trying out a small joke to see if she can reduce some of his tension. “How are you holding up with your Celestial Immersion program?”</p><p>“Hoo boy, that’s exactly what it feels like,” he huffs a nervous laugh and runs his hand through his hair. Linda slides a glass of water across the table to him, and he takes a deep drink, settling back into the booth a little. “Arael is great. Maze is… just Maze. Things are a little weird with Amenadiel, but I think he’s trying to seem… smaller… so he doesn’t freak me out. Lucifer is…” Dan pauses, and Linda waits patiently as he searches for words. “Lucifer is just… himself. He’s <em>exactly</em> the same as he’s always been, except now sometimes he has wings, and I can tell he’s trying to be gentle to make this easier for me.” He stops speaking for a moment, gazing down into his glass as though finding some answers there. “We were able to talk a little bit, while we were waiting for Michael to show up, and I’m still trying to wrap my brain around it. He… he really seems to <em>care</em>. I mean—he told me how the whole guilt thing works, and he told me that he didn’t want me to end up in Hell, so I needed to work on that. Then he offered to cover my sessions with you, or with another therapist if I preferred. He played it off like he was doing it because of Chloe and Trixie, but… I don’t think that’s the only, or really even the <em>main</em> reason. He… it seems like he genuinely wants to <em>help </em>me, even though I tried to kill him, and nearly did kill Chloe.”</p><p>Linda nods seriously, carefully hiding her fierce pride in her favorite patient. “He’s a good man, Dan, truly. Amenadiel told me what you did to save him, that took a great deal of bravery.”</p><p>“He told me to run,” Dan admits slowly, shaking his head. “He knew Michael was going to kill him, <em>again</em>, and he tried to convince me to save myself.”</p><p>“But instead, you saved <em>him</em>.”</p><p>“And then Amenadiel saved <em>me</em>.”</p><p>“Well, it was a team effort, then,” Linda smiles warmly at him, and he tentatively returns it.</p><p>“Something occurred to me last night as I was falling asleep, and I wanted to run it by you—?”</p><p>“What’s on your mind, Dan?”</p><p>“Well, they’re identical,” he begins, then stammers to correct himself. “I mean, except for the wings, there’s no way anybody who didn’t really <em>know</em> one or the other to be able to tell the difference. Now… well, now it’s going to be a <em>lot</em> easier, but before—it would have been way too easy for Michael to pass himself off as Lucifer and do things to make the devil look bad in the eyes of, well, <em>everyone</em>. I thought … I wondered how likely it might have been that Michael was kind of setting up Lucifer’s bad reputation this whole time.” He glances up at her, trying to read her expression. “I mean, you haven’t talked to him yet, I know, but… Linda—Dr. Martin, the guy is seriously <em>unhinged.</em> And I know coming from me that’s probably pot calling kettle, but… the guy was going to dump his twin brother’s body into a star, just to make sure he stayed dead. That’s… that’s a whole new level of dedication, ya know?”</p><p>Linda feels her eyes widen at Dan’s revelation. “I, uh… yes, that does seem a bit extreme.” She clears her throat, and moves the conversation along. “So your theory now is that Michael has been… seeding the myth of an evil Lucifer by claiming to be him and committing evil acts?”</p><p>“I saw those photos in Kinley’s book—there would be no way to know which one of them it was. Based solely on what I know about Lucifer, though… there’s no way he could be responsible for half of what that priest tried to lay at his feet. Michael? That guy is cold as ice, I’m not sure I’d put anything past him.”</p><p>Linda nods, taking his assessment and filing it away to peruse later, after she’s had a chance to discuss Michael with Lucifer, and interview him herself. “It’s definitely worth pursuing as a theory, Dan. I’m glad you told me about it so I can ask Lucifer for his input before I evaluate Michael later. For now, though, let’s get back to <em>you.</em>  How did your reunion with Trixie go?”</p><p>Dan walks her through his encounter with his daughter, making sure to mention Lucifer’s little nudges and reactions as Linda hides her smile. She knows that if Dan manages to keep on his path of making amends, sooner or later Lucifer will annoy him enough that he’ll go back to treating him “normally” again. <em>And won’t that be a relief for everyone involved</em>. Lucifer never likes it when people point out his altruistic side… he still sees it as a weakness and much prefers it to remain unacknowledged. His concern for Dan’s final destination is outweighing his need to remain low-profile right now, but Linda’s willing to wager he’ll be back to his old ways soon enough, once he’s convinced Dan is well on his way to redemption.</p><p>“Chloe mentioned that you’re aware of her… divinity situation now.”</p><p>“Yeah…” he draws the word out on a long sigh, sliding his glass nervously from hand to hand. “That’s gonna take some getting used to, but… it saved her from bleeding out when I shot her, so I really don’t have any room to question it. The eyes though… man, that was <em>weird.”</em></p><p>“Just weird?” she prods carefully.</p><p>“Well, unnerving, definitely, but—it’s kinda funny, it was just… <em>Chloe</em>.” Dan’s brow furrows as he tries to articulate what he’s trying to say. “She’s always had this flash to her eyes when she’s <em>really</em> pissed. That—what I saw?  It kind of seems like an extension of that… it’s her, but… I dunno, <em>more</em> her somehow. I don’t know how to describe it more than that.”</p><p>“Hmm.” Linda lets the subject drop for now, and they speak for a while longer on Dan’s plans for the immediate future. Finding a job is proving difficult for a former police officer waiting on his court date for aggravated assault with a firearm, so Lucifer has generously offered Maze’s former apartment for the short-term, at least until this little situation has blown over and Dan can devote more time to job and apartment hunting. Eventually, the warning alarm chimes and Linda closes the session with topics she’d like Dan to consider before next time.</p><p>Dan disembarks the elevator on Maze’s level with a sincere thanks and Linda continues on up to the penthouse, hoping that Lucifer is awake and ready to chat.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Did That Sound Like a Threat to You?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She’s relieved to hear low voices when she steps off the elevator, and she easily recognizes the soothing cadence of Lucifer’s accent.</p><p>“But Detective—” he’s protesting as the doors close behind her, only to be cut off.</p><p>“No!” Chloe’s tone is hovering between frustration and laughter, which seems to be normal for her interactions with Lucifer. “You’re <em>staying</em> in that bed until you’re strong enough to move on your own. You’re not healed yet, and you’re still too pale and cold. You could barely fold your wings away yesterday without passing out! Linda can come in <em>here</em> to talk with you, I’m sure she won’t mind.”</p><p>“I can practically hear you smirking from here, Doctor, you may as well come in,” Lucifer calls testily, and she doesn’t bother to hide her chuckle as she climbs the stairs into his bedroom. “It’s lovely to see you, thank you for making a day of it, as it were.”</p><p>“Oh, our day is only just beginning,” she assures him. “In addition to our session, I’d also like to talk with you about Michael before I evaluate him. And… I didn’t know if you and Chloe wanted a joint session today, but we’ll probably have time, if you decide you do.”</p><p>Lucifer looks a bit nervous at the idea of having <em>two</em> therapy sessions in a day, so she doesn’t press.</p><p>“Well,” Lucifer hesitates, “Can we see how things go before we make a decision on the joint session? I’ve been, er, rather tired lately and wouldn’t want to over-commit.”</p><p>“Let’s do this, then,” Linda suggests carefully. “I have a feeling that discussing Michael is going to be taxing for you. Let’s start there, then if you need a break I can go evaluate Michael while you de-compress. If you’re okay after discussing Michael, we can go ahead with <em>your</em> session, then I can evaluate him while you decide if you have the will and energy for a joint session.”</p><p>“Always so reasonable, Doctor.” A flicker of dread crosses his face, but he wipes it away quickly, replacing it with a superficial smile. “Where shall we start, then?”</p><p>Chloe reluctantly stands from her place on the edge of the bed, and Linda doesn’t miss the edge of repressed panic in Lucifer’s eyes as he watches her prepare to leave. <em>These two really need a break from the trauma of the past few months</em>. “Chloe can stay for this conversation if you want, Lucifer,” she offers. The tension in his shoulders lessens as Chloe watches him for his answer. He holds out his hand to her, and she takes it both of hers as she sits back down, her left leg tucked underneath her as she leans into him supportively. Linda settles herself in one of the chairs at the foot of the bed after making sure everyone has a glass of water, taking the time to sniff suspiciously at Lucifer’s to make sure he wasn’t trying to sneak some vodka or gin.</p><p>“The Detective has been quite adamant about my hydration, Doctor,” he chuckles as she sets his glass down, satisfied that it is in fact water. “Some nonsense about not replacing blood volume with alcohol.”</p><p>Chloe’s eyes roll, and Linda allows herself a small smile before digging into the discussion at hand.                                                                           </p><p>“Okay, I’ve heard bits and pieces about Michael, but I’d like to know more before I go in for his evaluation. What can you tell me?”</p><p>“I’m afraid I’ve no <em>recent</em> insights other than what I’ve experienced since Friday, Doctor—before that, I hadn’t seen Michael since he chucked me into Hell.”</p><p>“But you’ve told me before how little celestial beings tend to change, especially in Heaven. So… what can you tell me from before? Anything could be helpful.”</p><p>“We’ve never had anything in common, aside from our appearance,” Lucifer begins slowly. “Michael always saw my preference for company, my… desire for acceptance as a weakness. The only one he cared to please was Father, and even then he would only do so as far as <em>he</em> chose to. He would sometimes pretend to be me, though that wouldn’t <em>always</em> work out well for him, since everyone knows I don’t lie. He managed it for a while in the Garden, with Eve. He’d banked a little too hard on <em>my</em> being the one with Eve when Adam finally worked up the nerve to retaliate, though, and when the day came, <em>he</em> was the one that Adam attacked.”</p><p>“We’ve figured out some of what happened afterward—you remember me telling you about Azrael’s blade, Doctor, and that it could wipe souls entirely from existence? Raphael’s theory is apparently that with a non-fatal blow, the blade merely eats away at your soul until the wound heals, then – at least for an angel—the soul can begin to rejuvenate itself using the ambient divinity in the environment. With Michael, Raphael thinks that there were several problems with his healing. One being that Michael is Darkness. Darkness repels light by its very nature, and divinity <em>is</em> light. So his healing was delayed, but Raphael was concerned because of the continuous bleeding, and forced a Healing on the wound, which sealed it off from any further rejuvenation. The prat hadn’t paid attention to the blade, didn’t realize that the Flaming Sword and Azrael’s blade were one and the same, so he didn’t know that Michael’s soul had not only been bleeding from the wound to the wing, but had been slowly being consumed by the blade for a couple of decades before Raphael sealed the wound.”</p><p>Linda feels her eyes growing wider the more Lucifer speaks, and an incomplete picture is starting to form in her head.</p><p>“So… we have in our hands a fallen archangel with pre-existing antisocial tendencies, that’s been existing with a partial soul for… how long, exactly?”</p><p>“It’s hard to say, Doctor. Thousands of years here on the Earthly plane. For Michael, millions, maybe even billions. Time in Heaven moves faster than it does here, but not as quickly as it does in Hell.”</p><p>“So… if you’ve been in Hell for thousands of Earth years, and time moves fastest there… does that make you older than Amenadiel?” Chloe’s briefly sidetracked by this random thought, and Lucifer glances at her, intrigued.</p><p>“I… suppose it does. Technically, anyway. I’m <em>definitely</em> going to use that next time he tries to pull the ‘older brother’ card.”</p><p>“Okay, back to Michael, though,” Linda redirects. “Has he acted out against other siblings, to your knowledge?”</p><p>“Not that I’m aware of,” Lucifer replies, after a moment of thought. “Though he did apparently admit to planting the idea for Uriel to come after me, so… depending on how you choose to interpret that, I suppose it could be seen as an attack on Uriel, me, or both at once. Amenadiel might know more about his actions in the Silver City after I Fell, or Arael—though he tends to keep to himself.</p><p>“Any problems keeping obligations?”</p><p>“We’re angels, Doctor, obligations are built into our Purpose, completely impossible to deny. Well, except maybe for me. Side effect of being the Will, I’m difficult to control.” Chloe snorts softly, and Lucifer’s smirk makes Linda smile. <em>Difficult, indeed.</em></p><p>“Does he tend to be impulsive?  Take risks?”</p><p>“Yes, and no. He’s a planner, a strategist… but at times he seems to leave gaping holes in his strategies—like not anticipating Adam attacking <em>him</em> instead of <em>me</em> in the Garden, or being caught by surprise by Mazikeen and Dan. He’s easy to goad into a charge by pricking at his pride. He seems to have a particular blind spot for humanity in general, perhaps he just sees you all as so far beneath him that you’re not worth concerning himself over.” Lucifer recalls his audience and quickly adds, “Obviously to his great detriment.”</p><p>“Obviously,” Chloe snickers and bumps her shoulder against his.</p><p>“Have you ever known him to feel remorse, or shame?”</p><p>“Well… not to my specific knowledge, Doctor, but…” Lucifer hesitates, his brow furrowing. “If he’s falling, or fallen… he must feel <em>something</em>. When Amenadiel fell, he felt guilt and shame for what happened after he resurrected Malcolm, but… I have no idea what might have triggered Michael’s fall. He certainly wouldn’t tell <em>me</em> if he knew.”</p><p>“All right. Well, I’ve got a slight idea of what I’m walking into. I suppose we’ll just see how he reacts to me. Can you ask Raphael if he’d like to come listen in, Lucifer?” She hesitates, realizing that Lucifer and Raphael haven’t been on the best terms. “Or… perhaps ask Arael to ask him?”</p><p>“I think the request would be better welcomed from Arael,” he remarks dryly, slipping his fingers from Chloe’s to press his palms together briefly. “Arael will let him know, but you needn’t wait for him to arrive to start your interview. Your time is precious.”</p><p>Linda tilts her head at him, taken aback by his consideration. “Thank you, Lucifer, it means a lot to hear you say so.”</p><p>“I always appreciate your time and efforts, Doctor, even if I don’t always have the time to express that adequately.” He grins at her, unrepentant. “As it happens, I have nothing but time currently, so I’m better able to express my gratitude. I was just telling the Detective and Miss Lopez yesterday that I’d be lost without your insights into humanity and emotions.”</p><p>“Well,” Linda swallows, pushing down the swell of emotion at the rare show of regard from her friend before continuing lightly. “Don’t think that’s going to get you off the hook for your session after I’m done with your brother.”</p><p>Lucifer laughs delightedly, “Of course not Doctor, I wouldn’t dare try. It’s not as though I can escape at the moment anyway, since the Detective won’t even let me bloody try to stand.”</p><p>“You tried yesterday and nearly fell on your face!” Chloe protests vehemently, and Linda watches the interaction between them keenly. “The only reason you <em>didn’t</em> is because Ella happened to be right beside you and managed to shove you backward so you fell on the bed, instead! You can barely stay awake for a couple hours at a time, you’re still not as warm as you should be, and you’re still too pale.” Her tone is angry, but there’s fear underneath it. Her hands betray her tone, one squeezing his hand tightly and the other brushing against his cheek, which he leans into. “Just… stay, please.” This last is said quietly, pleading, and the teasing light fades from his eyes, replaced with a softness that Linda rarely gets to see there.</p><p>“All right, darling,” he presses his lips to her palm, murmuring against the skin there. “You win for now, but I’m trying again tomorrow. If the whiskey won’t come to the devil, the devil must go to the whiskey, after all.”</p><p>“I’m pretty sure that’s not how the proverb goes, Lucifer,” Linda laughs, and Lucifer slides her a wink.</p><p>“Well, I’m sure they modified it before it got written down.” That makes even Chloe laugh, and Linda stands to make her way back downstairs to Michael. “Doctor—” Lucifer hesitates and the playful demeanor falls from him in a rush. “Arael will be right there the entire time, but… do be careful, all right? We’re fairly certain Michael’s lost his powers, but remember Fear is <em>his</em>. I’ve no doubt he’ll try to use it against you. Be aware, and if you feel <em>anything</em> odd, please don’t be brave about it, abandon the plan and come straight out of there. I won’t have him harming you. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you or your… your parasite there.” He gestures vaguely at her midriff, and she smothers a laugh.</p><p>“Your concern is noted, Lucifer, and I promise to be watchful. I appreciate the warning.” She moves toward the door, and calls back over her shoulder. “I’ll see you in a little while for <em>your</em> session.”</p><p>The elevator doors are closing behind her when she hears Lucifer’s concerned voice, “Did that sound like a threat to you, Detective?”</p><p>She manages to hold in her bark of laughter until the doors are sealed and the elevator is moving downward.</p><p>*</p><p>“Hello Michael,” Linda confidently breezes into the room where Michael is being held. “My name is Dr. Linda Martin, and I’m here to evaluate you for mental competency.”</p><p>She takes in the room in a glance, Michael has been allowed to sit up, but remains chained to rings on the floor, rack, and wall. Bleeding lines mar the skin under the cuffs on his wrists, though the manacles aren’t tight, so he’s clearly tried struggling. He’s leaning back against the upright bar of the rack, so she can’t see the wounds on his back, but she’s glad that she’s just left Lucifer upstairs or her heart would be twisting in grief to see an apparition of him in this condition. The archangel’s head is drooped forward, obscuring his face from sight, but the tousled hair, the musculature, the stubbled beard, all screams <em>Lucifer</em>. The only difference she can currently see is the blackened scar on this one’s <em>right</em> shoulder, where Lucifer’s wounds are all on his left side.</p><p>The drooping figure in front of her stiffens as though electrified, spluttering indignantly, and Linda’s stomach lurches as he lifts his face, contorted with fury at being spoken to so casually. <em>Here</em> she sees the differences. The open cut snaking its way from his left brow to his right cheek, of course, but the eyes—there is no light in these, no fire, no passion—only icy, brittle rage. She remains impassive, letting her gaze run over him once. It’s a risky approach, but since he thinks humans beneath him and she <em>knows</em> he reacts rashly when provoked, she’s gambling on her best bet of getting answers from him by pissing him off. It’s certainly not an approach she’d consider from the start with a human patient, but… well, Michael isn’t human, he’s already killed her friend once, and tried to do it a second time. They need some answers, and traditional methods aren’t likely to work here. <em>And we’re not likely to get a second chance, either.</em> The chains rattle as he tries to move, but they hold him securely.</p><p>“Hm,” she muses a moment for show, switching her gaze to Arael. “He <em>can</em> speak, right? I mean, no one mentioned that he was mentally deficient, only morally. Or does he need a translator?”</p><p>“Of <em>course</em> I can speak, you insignificant insect,” the archangel hisses, and she’s sure that if he still had his power of Fear, he’d be using it on her right now. She stares back at him, unmoved.</p><p>“Well then, that’s one less problem to deal with. I’m just going to be asking you a few questions. The answers you give me will help us determine what exactly will happen to you during your stay with us, so your honesty will be appreciated.”</p><p>“You truly think my Father will allow me to just languish down here among you humans? My siblings?”</p><p>“Why not?” Linda asks candidly. “They’ve had no problems with Lucifer and Amenadiel hanging out down here for years.”</p><p>“I am the <em>Sword of God</em>, not some miserable Outcast and his keeper!”</p><p>“Oooohhh, I see, so you’re Very Important up there. What is it you do, exactly?”</p><p>“I oversee the training of the Heavenly Armies and defend my Father’s creation from all threats!”</p><p>“Uh-huh, and… how many times have your defenses been necessary?”</p><p>“I defended against Samael’s rebellion!”</p><p>“Mmm… and how many other times?”</p><p>Michael’s sullen silence speaks volumes.</p><p>“So… you’ve had a bit of free time on your hands for the past few millennia, huh?” Linda pastes a sympathetic look on her face. “Well, hey, that’s okay, we all need some downtime now and then. I’m sure the battle with Lucifer’s army was exhausting. I guess you’ve had loads of time to build some good relationships up there, then? I mean… you have hundreds of siblings, right? So you must’ve been able to cultivate close friendships with them, if they’re going to be storming down here to retrieve you?”</p><p>A brief flicker of uncertainty crosses Michael’s face, and Linda continues blithely on.</p><p>“Which sibling would you say you’re closest to? Clearly, things aren’t so great with Lucifer, which is odd—you being twins and all, I’d have thought there would be some kind of bond there, but hey, families are complicated.”</p><p>“Remiel would never allow her Commander to be kept prisoner on Earth.”</p><p>“Remi is currently guarding your sword in the armory,” Arael chimes in cheerfully, “and she had the decency to express shame for believing your lies.”</p><p>“Then Raguel will come to rectify this injustice—I was merely preventing our father from making an enormous mistake in allowing Samael back into the Silver City, this… this farce is unmerited!”</p><p>“Raguel has already offered to consult with both Amenadiel <em>and</em> Lucifer to make sure justice is served with regards to you, Michael, but <em>do</em> keep trying. I find I’m rather enjoying this.”</p><p>Michael already knows Gabriel’s opinions of his recent actions, and Gavreel had made it very clear that a good portion of the rest of the host was following suit as well. His Father hasn’t interfered on Earth in eons, except for placing that miracle here for Samael, and even that was through Amenadiel…</p><p>“So, just to clarify this situation a bit—” Linda breaks into his thoughts mercilessly, “you’re wingless, powerless, and friendless, with no <em>real</em> knowledge of life on Earth. You’re stuck here while you heal up physically and spiritually, which could take anywhere from months to <em>years</em>, and meanwhile you’re basically human. You’re gonna need food, water, shelter, and some kind of employment to make sure you can support those basic needs… assuming you’re not either institutionalized or imprisoned.” She watches the realization dawn on him of the possibility of no forthcoming rescue.</p><p>“I am their <em>Commander</em>.”</p><p>“It sounds as though you’ve spent your eternity alienating your entire family with lies and manipulations,” she continues, her voice gentling just a little. “If someone had lied and manipulated <em>you</em>, how would you feel about that?”</p><p>“None would <em>dare</em>.” The rage is back again, but that’s not the response she’s looking for.</p><p>“Come on, think about it for a moment.” She tries again, casting around to try to find an example he could understand. “If…”</p><p>“If someone you trusted—Raphael perhaps—had told you that Remiel was plotting against you and you acted against her first, only to find out it had been an untruth and she had been innocent… how would you have reacted, brother?” Arael supplies a fitting scenario, and Linda glances at him gratefully.</p><p>“Why would Raphael do such a thing?” Michael asks, distracted by the abrupt change in the conversation.</p><p>“This is a hypothetical situation, Michael,” Linda explains. “Maybe… maybe he was jealous of Remiel for some reason. How would you react if you found that he’d lied to you… caused you to act unjustly toward an innocent sibling?”</p><p>“What is the point of this ridiculous question?” Michael snarls, his chains rattling as he shifts restlessly.</p><p>“The <em>point</em>,” she enunciates very clearly, “is to see if you are <em>capable</em> of imagining how your actions look to others. To see if you’re clever enough to look at situations through more lenses than merely your own, and so be able to understand why others around you react the way they do.”</p><p>“Again,” he growls, “why would <em>I</em> waste time on such a pointless effort?”</p><p>“Perhaps, if you had spent time on this effort <em>before</em> now,” Linda suggests, “You wouldn’t be finding yourself in this situation, with no support except the grudging shelter and sustenance of those you’ve harmed.”</p><p>“I am the <em>Sword of God</em>,” he repeats firmly, as though it’s the bedrock of his identity, and perhaps it is.</p><p>“You <em>were</em> the Sword of God,” Linda unconsciously echoes Amenadiel’s words to Michael just yesterday. “Now you’re only Michael, a fallen angel that’s going to need to change—really change—if he wants any of his powers back again. Not considering how your actions affect others is a tactical weakness, because you have no way to predict their reactions. If you want to survive down here, you’re going to need to adapt. Hell, even if they allow you to be confined in Heaven, you’re going to need to adapt, because they certainly don’t trust you there anymore, either.”</p><p>“The truth has come to light, brother,” Arael adds quietly. “Your power is gone. You will need support in order to survive.”</p><p>“Support is for the weak,” Michael sneers at his gentle brother.</p><p>“You’re essentially human now,” Arael points out. “How would you classify that, exactly?”</p><p>Michael’s eyes drop to the manacles on his wrists, the bloodied skin underneath them. He remembers the fleeting agony of the so-called “Brain Freeze” that he’d suffered. Linda and Arael watch his face as he runs through the facts he’s been confronted with, finally falling into reluctant concession.</p><p>“I am at your mercy,” he states listlessly.</p><p>“Then you are fortunate, brother, that Lucifer is Lucifer, and not <em>you</em>.” Arael replies coldly.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Can You Play Nice, or Not?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“If Linda were going to threaten you, she’d definitely be more clear about it,” Chloe assures him, smirking. “She knows you’re terrible at taking hints.”</p><p>“I’ve <em>told</em> you, Detective, I <em>can</em> take hints.”</p><p>“So you… simply choose not to most of the time?”</p><p>“I choose my moments,” he admits, grinning. She rests her head on his shoulder and sighs in mock frustration, and a comfortable silence envelops them. After a few minutes, he feels her shifting anxiously against him. “What’s on your mind, Detective?”</p><p>“Will you tell me?” she asks quietly, tilting her head to gaze up at his face. “What happened that morning?”</p><p>“Of course I will,” he rumbles, “But, as Beatrice pointed out before, you do already know the ending. Are you certain you want to know the beginning?”</p><p>“Lucifer, I’ll <em>always</em> want to know.” A strained little sound escapes his throat, and he looks away. “What?”</p><p>“I just…” he hesitates, framing his thoughts. “I catch myself wondering, quite often, <em>which</em> story is going to prove to the be the one that… that breaks you. That sends you screaming in the opposite direction again.”</p><p>“Lucifer—” she draws back, hurt, and he lets his arm slip away from her, giving her space.</p><p>“It will happen, Chloe,” his eyes plead with her to believe him, his tone is earnest, but his intentional use of her name is what pulls her tears forth. “I don’t blame you for how you reacted before—you know that. But…there are so many stories… so <em>much</em> you still don’t know about me, it would take thousands of years to relate them all, and… and I don’t even know where to <em>begin</em>.”</p><p>She resists the urge to pull away further, to cross her arms in front of her and react defensively. Those are old habits that don’t serve her well, and she needs to put them behind her in order to focus on her future—hopefully one <em>with Lucifer</em>. Instead, she regards him for a moment, mulling over his words, and the worry, the emotions behind them. Slowly, like sand settling in the wake of a wave, something surfaces in her mind. He <em>wants </em>her to know all of him, but he’s also terrified that what she’ll learn will turn her away. He isn’t hiding anything from her anymore, not even the crippling fear that she can choose to leave him behind at any given moment.  And, given his history of being cast away by his loved ones, she has to acknowledge the validity of the fear, even as she rejects the idea of ever repudiating him herself. As she accepts the <em>intent</em> behind what he’s saying, the little ripple of pain she’d felt at his seeming mistrust settles into the warmth of the flaring light in her chest. She closes the distance between them again, resting her head back on his shoulder as he stiffens in surprise.</p><p>“We have all the time in the world, Lucifer,” she reminds him softly, her hand finding his and squeezing. “I’m not going anywhere, and <em>I know you</em>. You don’t have to share any stories from your past that you’re not comfortable with—although if they’re pertinent to any situations that we face in the future, I would <em>greatly </em>appreciate it if you would. Otherwise, we can just… share them as they come up. There doesn’t have to be any ‘Great List’ of things you feel you need to tell me about, because I already <em>know you</em>.”</p><p>“As you desire, Detective,” she feels him relax into her, and she settles against his warmth. He’s nearly back up to his normal temperature again, and she revels in that familiarity. “I’ll have you know that prying myself away from you that morning was one of the more difficult things I’ve done in my <em>very</em> long life… you’re quite the clinger, I had to distract you with my pillow in order to escape.”</p><p>“I can’t help it that you’re so <em>warm</em>,” she turns her face against his shoulder, hiding her smile at his attempt to lighten the mood.</p><p>“Yes, well,” he continues, “I started to make the requested pancakes for the Urchin—we had a deal, after all.”</p><p>“A deal?” she tilts her head confused. “What deal? I don’t remember that.”</p><p>“Oh, yes,” he confirms affably. “I got to spend the evening with you ladies, and in exchange I was to make pancakes for brekkie. I need to remember to ask her about the raincheck, I’m nearly sure she won’t hold these circumstances against my inability to fulfill my end of the deal right away—"</p><p>“Lucifer, no—” she’s looking up at him, aghast, and he trails off with a worried look on his face. She rushes to correct his assumption. “That’s not—it wasn’t a <em>deal</em>, Lucifer, Trixie just really likes your pancakes. It’s not anything you <em>had</em> to do to… to pay for spending time with us!”</p><p>“Well, I must earn my keep somehow?” He tilts his head at her, genuinely confused and a crack appears in her heart at the realization that this man, this… ancient being... has never simply been welcomed anywhere for <em>who he is</em>. He’s always needed to serve a purpose, to fulfill a deal, to sate a desire. He’s still talking. “Breakfast seemed a simple enough request?”</p><p>“And if you <em>want</em> to make food, or do things for us sometimes, that’s perfectly fine, but… Lucifer, it’s… us getting to spend time with you?  <em>That’s</em> the payout. <em>That’s</em> what we get out of it. We love you, and we want to spend time with you… you don’t have to do <em>anything</em> to earn that except the things you already do—just being yourself, okay?” She fights back the choking feeling that’s starting to creep up her throat as his quizzical look turns to concern.</p><p>“Detective, are you all right?”</p><p>“I’ll be fine,” <em>I will be,</em> she pledges to herself as she makes a mental note to bring this subject up again later when she’s had some time to organize her argument better. “I… really hate that all this happened because my pantry wasn’t better stocked.”</p><p>“Ah, well, Michael would have found another time and place had this one not panned out,” he huffs a dry laugh. “This timing may well have been the best, really—with you hearing the story of my Fall so recently, Michael was fresh in your mind. You may not have cottoned onto him quite so quickly had he waited longer.”</p><p>Chloe tightens her grip around his waist as she realizes how right he is. She’d nearly completely written off Lucifer’s concerns about his twin, secure in her certainty of being able to suss out an imposter. <em>I </em>really<em> should look into that voluntary demotion from Detective…</em></p><p>“Do you still want me to continue?” He asks hopefully, and she narrows her eyes at him. He sighs in defeat. “Fine, then. He caught up to me in the alleyway outside the store, I’d ducked in there to unfurl my wings to fly back to you. He surprised me, and managed to hit me on the side of the head. It was the first time I’d seen him since he tossed me to Hell, and I was surprised that his wound hadn’t healed properly. I suppose we know why, now, hm? But, I digress. He accused me of talking too much, I accused him of lying too much, he told me he wanted me back burning in Hell where I belong… yada yada yada, you know—typical family stuff.”</p><p>“And it escalated?” she prompts carefully.</p><p>“With Michael it <em>always</em> escalates, usually quickly. I basically told him I really couldn’t care less if I had anything more to do with Heaven <em>or</em> Father, and he charged me with his sword, here—” he gestures to the wound on his side. “I caught him with a punch to the eye and an elbow to the mouth and taunted him a little about bringing a sword to a fistfight.”</p><p>Chloe snorts against his shoulder. Only <em>Lucifer</em> would mouth off during unarmed combat with an armed opponent.</p><p>“That’s the point where we got interrupted—a clerk from the grocery came out the side door when Michael was in mid-charge and he swung toward him. I—there wasn’t a choice, or a chance to stop him. I unfurled my wings and stepped in between them, here—” he gently rubs the still-open shoulder wound and gestures above it, indicating the wing. Chloe winces as he continues indifferently, “Severed an artery if the blood loss was any indication. It was a good strike, he had to twist the blade a fair bit to dislodge it from the bone. That’s when he decided to reopen this little scar for me,” his fingers trail ruefully along underneath his chin, “and treated me to his Grand Monologue on his diabolical plans for destroying the lives of the humans I care for.”</p><p>He rests his face briefly in her hair, breathing deeply. “I was mostly faded out by that point, the blood loss caught up to me fairly quickly, but… I had a flash of memory, of <em>you</em>, telling me that what others do to manipulate me isn’t my fault. I think that’s why I didn’t send myself straight to Hell, Chloe, but I remember thinking that I would miss you so…” She feels his lips brush her forehead, and she squeezes him tighter ‘til he laughs weakly. “Gently, Detective, the salve is starting to wear off, I think.”</p><p>She loosens her grip with an apologetic gasp, which he waves off. She scrambles for the satchel and comes back with the jar she’d used before, carefully reapplying it to all 3 wounds. She feels the tension bleed from him as the salve starts to work, and she scolds him lightly. “Say something before it really starts to hurt next time!”</p><p>“I shall do my best, Detective,” he smirks at her as she goes to wash her hands. When she returns she has a glass of water for him, and a plate of reheated pizza from the night before. They settle down to eat before she speaks again.</p><p>“I knew almost right away, you know.” Lucifer’s mouth is full, so he merely raises an inquisitorial eyebrow. “That something was… off. I didn’t know it was <em>Michael</em> until Maze showed up demanding to know what I’d done to you this time, but I was nervous, jittery all morning after he left the apartment. I think it was our Link telling me something was wrong.”</p><p>“Did he… did Michael…” Lucifer has to stop, swallowing hard.</p><p>“He didn’t do anything other than try to convince me he was you, and that he’d been attacked by a mugger… that your vulnerability around me must have had a bigger area of effect.” Lucifer snorts at the idea of a mugger doing any sort of damage to him, and Chloe manages a small smile. “But he was just slightly… wrong.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“He called Trixie my <em>daughter</em>.” Lucifer barks a laugh as she goes on, “He left your phone behind when he left. He was drinking clear liquor. He didn’t have your scar,” her fingers trace gently under his chin again. “And he smelled wrong.”</p><p>“You were close enough to smell him and notice the missing scar?” Lucifer repeats, incensed at the audacity of his conniving twin.</p><p>“Well, that was on me.” Chloe admits sheepishly. “Once we knew where to look for you, somebody had to distract him. They didn’t want me there when they dug you up, so I went to Lux to… distract… Michael.”</p><p>“Dare I ask <em>how</em> you distracted him?” There’s a note of amusement in his voice, so Chloe knows he doesn’t think she actually <em>did</em> anything with his twin.</p><p>“I… may have teased him a little.”</p><p>“Mmhm, and?”</p><p>“But that was before I shot him.” Lucifer stares at her incredulously before throwing back his head with a full-throated roar of laughter. Her answering grin spreads across her face as she gives him the coup de grâce. “Eight times, including once in the balls.”</p><p>“Oh, Detective, I <em>do</em> love your vicious streak.” He’s holding his stomach now, trying not to double over due to the tenderness of the wound on his side and breathing in great, whooping gasps between bellows of laughter. “But consider me reminded <em>not</em> to trigger it. And he just… left after that?”</p><p>“I had Maze backing me up with her knives, and made sure he knew that <em>they</em> could do some real damage.”</p><p>“Clever, Detective.”</p><p>“I’m just glad Azrael could give us an idea of where your body was, and that Ella was able to recognize the location from her description.” She nearly chokes on her next words, “If Michael hadn’t been lazy, Lucifer… we might never have found you.”</p><p>“Well, <em>I’m</em> pleased I at least got an escort from dear old Sis this time. The last two times it was just a blink and I was back in Hell. This time I got a nice little chat with my favorite little sister and a tour of a plane I never knew existed.”</p><p>Chloe scrunches her eyes shut at the reminder that this was the <em>third </em>time he’d died since she’s known him. “Do you remember Limbo at all? What was it like?”</p><p>“It was… grey. Bit bleak, really, kind of like the Greek idea of the underworld, all misty nothingness with lost souls milling around haphazardly. Once I got there, of course, I livened the place up a bit.” Chloe smiles as though he’s joking, but then he continues. “All the souls there were stuck—couldn’t decide if they deserved punishment or reward, so… I helped them.”</p><p>“You helped them? How?”</p><p>“Well, I suppose I don’t know how much I truly helped, but… I was trying not to think about the fact that I was probably never going to see you, or Linda or Miss Lopez or the Urchin again, so… I listened to them. They told me their stories, and I offered my insight on their situations. After a while, I noticed some of the ones I’d spoken to off by themselves, and they would disappear, either in a burst of light, or a puff of grey smoke.” His expression as he turns his face to her is full of awe. “Detective, they—after speaking with me, they were able to make their determinations and go to their final rests instead of lingering on a knife’s edge of indecision for all eternity! The looks on their faces, there was so much relief there…”</p><p>“How long had they been stuck? How many were there?”</p><p>“I didn’t know anything about Limbo until I wound up there, darling, but I’d assume it sprang into being around the same time human souls started winding up in Hell. So… a very, very long time.” He shrugs his good shoulder. “As to how many, I’ve no idea. There was a veritable sea of them when I arrived, and I’ve no way to tell how much time passed while I was there, but they were all gone by the time Azrael picked me up to take me to Hell.”</p><p>“What, you… you cleared out thousands of souls while you were there?” Chloe gazes at him, appalled. “And the whole time you thought we’d just given you up for dead?”</p><p>“Well, the point of speaking with them was <em>not</em> to think about that, actually, but I’m afraid it caught up with me in the end, when there was only one left, and he had <em>no</em> intentions of moving on.”</p><p>“Someone <em>chose</em> to stay there, alone? In… nothingness?” She can’t fathom making that decision, and then she notices Lucifer’s reluctant expression. “What aren’t you telling me?”</p><p>“The soul that chose to stay was… Cain.” Chloe’s face pales, and Lucifer stumbles on. “I thought he’d certainly be Hell-bound, but he was apparently serious when he said he didn’t feel guilt for much of anything. He didn’t want to go to Hell, but he also didn’t want to go Heaven and face my Father, so… he asked Azrael for peace, and she deposited him in Limbo. Quite comfortable he was, too, especially after I cleared the place out.”</p><p>“That’s…” Chloe doesn’t have words for what she wants to say. “I can’t even…”</p><p>“I talked him through how to help any new souls make their decisions for their destinations so he can keep his solitude if he so chooses, and he can make his own decision any time he wants.” Lucifer offers quietly. “He said he’d thought that he was bored with life, when what he truly was, was <em>tired</em>. He hadn’t had a true rest in millennia, and said he was looking forward to it in the afterlife.” His mahogany eyes search hers, trying to read her reaction to this revelation. Unable to read her face, he drops his gaze. “He did say that… the most restful moment he’d had was that day at the beach… with you.”</p><p>“That manipulative <em>bastard</em>,” Chloe hisses, and Lucifer’s gaze flickers back to her face. Her eyes are narrowed, and her lips are drawn back in a snarl. “He’s dead and he <em>still</em> can’t leave you alone!”</p><p>“Detective, I assure you, he doesn’t matter in the slightest.” They’ve finished their meal by now, empty plate sitting off on the side of the bed. He reaches out and pats her knee comfortingly. “I was actually glad he was there, he provided the distraction I needed while I was waiting for Azrael. And that’s when I felt, or, well—I suppose when I <em>thought</em> I felt you.”</p><p>Chloe squints at him for a moment before recalling touching his pale, cold cheek and feeling ghostly fingers brushing the back of her hand, gripping her hand in his…</p><p>“It <em>was</em> you!” She bursts out, her eyes lighting up. She rolls up onto her knees and plants a quick kiss on his stunned lips. “I knew it! I’d hoped you could feel me—and hoped you’d know that we hadn’t given up on you!”</p><p>“Your timing was impeccable, Detective, I could feel you just as I’d started speaking with Cain, and I… I knew it was <em>you.</em> It made me feel less alone.”</p><p>“Oh, Lucifer,” she sighs, and she settles back into his right side, their arms curling around one another. “I felt the same way when you grabbed my hand.”</p><p>*</p><p>Michael shuts down completely after his realization of being trapped with no hope of rescue from his family and refuses to speak further. Though Linda is disappointed, she’s not <em>surprised.</em> Hopefully she’s given him some things to think about, and she can try again in a few days. She thanks Arael again for his time and exits the room, only to nearly run into Raphael just outside the door. He starts to speak, but she makes a shushing gesture, and leads him to the elevator doors. The archangel looks mildly affronted to be following after a human, but follows along willingly enough, watching curiously as the silver doors slide closed behind them, then reopen on the next level.</p><p>“What a fascinating contrivance,” he murmurs, as Linda guides him gently off the lift before the doors can close with him still inside.</p><p>“Yes, elevators are the height of human innovation,” Linda responds dryly. He nods absently, oblivious as always to sarcasm. “I assume you’d like to discuss Michael’s session?”</p><p>“I arrived in time to witness the entire conversation. I would be interested to hear your thoughts, yes, Doctor.”</p><p>“I need to discuss the session with Lucifer as well, and I’d rather not have to do so twice.” She lifts an eyebrow at the Healer. “I would appreciate your insight, but not at the cost of additional stress to <em>my </em>patient. Are you able to participate in a <em>civil conversation</em> with Lucifer?”</p><p>Raphael has the grace to appear contrite. “Now that I know more of the story between Michael and… and Lucifer, I can see that my behaviour toward him was harsher than the situation called for.”</p><p>“That’s not an answer,” Linda points out coldly. “Can you play nice, or not? While your input could be valuable, I’m not putting it above my patient’s well-being.”</p><p>“I should offer him my apologies, at least,” the prickly son of God grumbles, nodding in acquiescence. “I can promise to avoid old habits to the best of my ability, but it may take some time to undo them completely.”</p><p>Linda figures that’s the closest she’ll get to an ‘I’ll be good’ admission, and leads him away from the elevator toward Lucifer’s bedroom. Raphael’s eyes roam the room curiously, lingering wistfully on the heavily-laden bookshelves on the second level as he follows along behind her. He nearly stops to inspect the Assyrian carvings on the walls, but his eagerness to discuss the current case wins out and he enters the room just behind the good Doctor.</p><p>“Doctor!” Lucifer crows cheerfully. “How did the interview with my weaselly twin go? I trust, given the length of your absence, that he wasn’t able to rattle you—?" His sentence tapers off as he realizes she’s not alone.</p><p>She can immediately see why he’s only now realizing that—Chloe is tucked securely under his right arm, and judging from her reddened eyes, they had been deep in conversation when Linda and Raphael had stepped off the elevator. Linda pulls a breath to speak, when Raphael beats her to it.</p><p>“Hello, Lucifer,” he says quietly, and Lucifer tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. “Amenadiel shared with me the truth behind your Fall, and… while I know it may seem an empty gesture, I… wish to tender my apologies for judging you harshly without hearing your side of events.” The words are stilted and formal, but Lucifer knows Raphael well enough to expect that of him.</p><p>He regards him in silence for a moment before giving him a nod of recognition. “Your apology is appreciated, brother, though I suppose I can’t fault you for believing the same as the others, even the ones who were <em>there</em> and saw what had truly happened. As I told Arael, you did help me recently when I needed it desperately, and for that I am grateful.” He pulls in a breath, nodding to himself as he transfers his attention back to Linda. “Come to talk about your findings, then?”</p><p>“Yes, Raphael was able to listen in on the interview, and I was hoping to get his insight as well—” She’s interrupted by an alert from a phone. Chloe jumps and pulls hers out.</p><p>“Oh, I’m sorry. Lucifer, I’ve got to run and get Trixie from school. I’ll stop by the apartment and grab some clothes and stuff, then we’ll head back here in time for dinner, okay?”</p><p>“Of course, Detective,” he smiles at her as she slides off the side of the bed, leaning forward for a quick kiss goodbye. She eyes Raphael suspiciously.</p><p>“You’ll be okay while I’m gone?”</p><p>He chuffs a laugh. “I shall eagerly await your return, but I’ve no doubt Doctor Linda can protect me from my brother should the need arise.”</p><p>For once, Raphael recognizes the joke <em>before</em> he takes offense, and smiles wanly at Chloe as she dons her boots and scurries to the elevator.</p><p>“Please, have a seat and do tell me your thoughts on my terrible twin.”</p><p>Linda goes over the highlights of the interview, and what she was able to glean from discussions with Lucifer and Dan beforehand.</p><p>“If he were human, I’d say he’s a good candidate for antisocial personality disorder, he exhibits nearly every hallmark for a diagnosis—but he’s not human. He’s also apparently missing a good chunk of his <em>soul</em>, and since we don’t know exactly how that affects him, it’s going to be impossible to pin down until he starts getting more of it back and we hopefully start to see a positive change.” She glances to Raphael at her side. “Do you have any idea how long it will take to start seeing a difference? Or any ideas on how having a… stunted soul would affect an angel?”</p><p>“I don’t know much about it, as no angel has ever had this situation come up before—” Raphael is interrupted by Lucifer, clearing his throat diffidently.</p><p>“I… could tell you how it affected <em>me</em>, if you like.” He offers hesitantly. “Though the timelines are going to be skewed, since my healing was nearly all done in Hell, except for brief visits up here.”</p><p>Raphael’s eyes widen as he starts to realize what Lucifer means, and Linda leans forward, interested despite wanting to protect her friend. Lucifer watches them for a moment before nodding to himself.</p><p>He repeats the relevant points of the story he’d told Chloe and Ella the day before, with his best estimates for time frames. Raphael and Linda both pay close attention, asking for details when needed. Finally, they sit quietly, ruminating on what they’ve discovered.</p><p>“So, Doctor, if it were this… antisocial disorder,” Lucifer begins, “What would we do about it?”</p><p>“Well, medications aren’t always very helpful for it, so it’s mostly treated with therapy… which can be difficult because most people with sociopathic tendencies don’t feel like they <em>need </em>therapy. The more violent ones often get institutionalized where therapy can be… somewhat enforced.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Lucifer muses. “If we’re unable to find a satisfactory place to hold Michael in the Silver City, where his recovery would likely be fastest, how difficult would it be to have him committed here? The Detective tells me that we don’t have enough evidence to have him <em>arrested</em>, but perhaps at a high security mental hospital?”</p><p>“It can be a little sticky, but with his known history it <em>might</em> work. In California, in order to have someone involuntarily committed, they need to be either a severe danger to themselves, a severe danger to others, or gravely disabled. But it has to be determined by the courts.”</p><p>Lucifer grimaces. He does have several lawyers and judges that owe him favors, but it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth to call in a favor for something like this. “We’ll save that as a maybe then… and hope that you or Gabriel can come up with something in the Silver City, Raphael.”</p><p>“Gabriel has had an idea, but we need to consult with Arael first, as it would affect him as well.”</p><p>“By all means, ask him to come up. Maze can watch Michael in the meantime.”</p><p>Raphael sends a brief prayer to Arael and receives his acknowledgement, then transfers his gaze to Lucifer’s wounds as they’re waiting for their brother to join them.</p><p>“Your wounds have healed remarkably in such a short time,” he observes candidly. “I didn’t see them when Arael brought your body to the Silver City, but judging from the stage of healing they’re in now… you may be completely healed within a few weeks.”</p><p>“Oh, that <em>is</em> pleasant news!” Lucifer purrs. “The Detective has been diligent with applying one of your salves, it has been marvelous for helping to manage the pain, so thank you for that.” Raphael beams at the compliment, and Lucifer continues, “At least we haven’t needed to put any on my back, so my sheets haven’t been ruined.”</p><p>“The wounds on your back aren’t painful?  Where Michael cut off your wings?”</p><p>“No, those wounds never stay once the new pair sprouts. Which is handy, since it feels like they take <em>forever</em> to heal otherwise.”</p><p>“Your wings have grown back already?” Raphael’s jaw drops in surprise before he gathers himself and closes it with an audible <em>click.</em></p><p>“Oh dearie me, yes. Once these feathery buggers decide they belong here, they don’t waste a moment. It felt like I was cutting off a pair at <em>least</em> once a day back before I’d given up on trying to get rid of them.”</p><p>“You… cut off your <em>own</em> wings? How—?”</p><p>“Well, the first time Maze did it for me, and <em>that</em> pair stayed gone for nearly 7 years. They grew back, though, after I redirected Mum to her own universe, and that’s when the real trouble started. I’d cut them off, they’d grow right back. I was a downright feather factory for months before the good Doctor convinced me to leave them be…”</p><p>Linda remembers helping Amenadiel gather and burn the many, many sets of wings that Lucifer had simply discarded in his closet, then forcefully pulls herself back to the present and watches the interactions between the two until Arael appears in the doorway.</p><p>“Michael is still quiet, Linda,” He reports softly, “He hasn’t spoken since you left the room.”</p><p>“Good,” Linda nods. “I hope I gave him plenty to think about, and maybe he’ll be more willing to chat next time I come see him.”</p><p>Arael’s gaze flits between Lucifer and Raphael, and Lucifer gives him a grin. “Raphael says they might have an idea for Michael, but they need your input, brother.”</p><p>“I’m happy to help in any way that I can… but I do hope you’re not intending to make me Michael’s keeper,” he warns Raphael sternly.</p><p>“I wouldn’t wish that punishment on anyone, Arael, least of all you,” Lucifer assures him, and Arael returns his grin.</p><p>“Well, Gabriel’s idea wasn’t to make you Michael’s keeper, but… what would you say to walling off your Garden for a few millennia?”</p><p>“My Garden?” Arael’s brow furrows in confusion. “Why?”</p><p>“It occurred to us that, while we have no cells in the Silver City to hold Michael, the Garden <em>was</em> once essentially a secure site. It had entrances that were guarded, and it is largely walled off, from when the first Humans lived there. Since Michael no longer has his wings, and the walls are unscalable… we thought perhaps if we simply sealed the gates, it might be the perfect place to contain our brother until his healing is complete and another evaluation can be made.”</p><p>Arael and Lucifer glance at each other, then to Linda.</p><p>“There are some things I would need to remove—some plants I would not trust him with, and virtually everything in my workshop… but perhaps they could be brought here, to the place I’ll be staying—?" Arael glances at Lucifer, who nods eagerly.</p><p>“All right, let’s talk some more about this,” Linda leans forward, and they start to plan in earnest.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>With this chapter, this beast is officially just over 100k words. (Counting the bonus chapter.  And I do.) I still have no idea where exactly we're going, but it seems as though at least some of you are enjoying the ride. I appreciate every comment, even if I can't figure out how to best respond to some of them. They ALL make my hermity little heart happy.  If you have the inclination-- at some point could you let me know how you found this story? Someone left a comment on another of my stories a bit ago asking why it didn't have more kudos/comments, and the only response I could come up with is... I have no idea what I'm doing!  So please, if you like, let me know how you stumbled across my humble attempts?  And also, Happy New Year, in case I can't get the next chapter done by then.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. For Some Undadly Reason</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Phanuel!” Amenadiel greets his sister warmly. “Arael must be feeling a bit overwhelmed at all the attention?”</p><p>“That’s certainly the feeling I got, when he sent me a prayer,” Her friendly sky-blue eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiles up at him, her dancer’s frame relaxed. “He knows attention doesn’t bother me in the slightest.”</p><p>That’s a bit of an understatement—Phanuel is one of the most popular angels in the Host, as the angel of Hope and Redemption, she has a way of inspiring cordiality even from their more prickly siblings. Her company is always highly sought, and she <em>thrives</em> on constantly being surrounded by others.</p><p>“Of course I have time to speak with you,” Amenadiel answers the initial request with a wide smile. “I’m waiting to see if Father will grant me an audience, and you know how long that can take. I would appreciate the company greatly.”</p><p>“Wonderful,” Phanuel settles on the floor, leaning against the wall of their father’s workshop, and Amenadiel lowers himself cross-legged beside her. She reaches back behind her head and winds her wavy, strawberry blonde hair into a loose bun. “I heard the story from Arael when he brought Lucifer’s body here to hide it, and I’ll be visiting with Lucifer soon to clarify a few points. What I’d like to hear from you is <em>your</em> side of your interactions with Lucifer throughout the millennia, as you’ve had the most interactions with him since his Fall.”</p><p>The smile falls from Amenadiel’s face, replaced by a fleeting grimace. “I will tell you, but… Phani, knowing what I know <em>now</em>… I am not proud of my actions regarding our brother. I’ve learned a great deal more about him in the past few years on Earth than I had during the millennia I was dragging him back to Hell.”  </p><p>Phanuel regards her eldest brother carefully, her clear blue eyes reading him effortlessly. She can See how far he had fallen, and she rejoices in how diligently he has worked for his own redemption, to reclaim his wings and grace. “Then let us start with your time <em>learning</em> about him on Earth, and if I have more questions, we can revisit the earlier times. Arael’s story ended with Lucifer arriving on Earth to stay, so you can pick up there.”</p><p>Amenadiel nods and begins his tale. Phanuel is thorough, picking for more details any time she notices a flicker in Amenadiel’s expression that tells her he’s hiding something, or telling slightly <em>less</em> than the full truth. She makes a sound of revulsion in the back of her throat when he admits to stealing Lucifer’s severed wings, nearly unleashing them upon humanity, then raising the Hell-bound Malcolm Graham to use him to forcibly send Lucifer back to Hell via murder. Amenadiel lowers his gaze to the floor in front of him, but continues to speak, filling in the rest of his story. He ends with his arrival at their current location, bringing the narrative full circle. The silence stretches uncomfortably between them, Phanuel’s piercing eyes never leaving her brother for a moment. She nods slowly.</p><p>“Thank you for telling me this, Amenadiel.” His eyes slowly lift at the lack of judgement in her tone, and she smiles gently at him. “My place is not to judge, but to relay the truth. Fear not, brother, I will only tell the relevant points of the story to the Host at large, I only need the details to ensure I don’t lose some of the truth in the retelling. Multiple perspectives can be invaluable.”</p><p>“Indeed they can, daughter,”</p><p>*</p><p>“I dunno, Chlo’, I’ve just screwed up so badly, and now I have no idea how to pick up the pieces,” Dan had decided to accompany Chloe to pick up Trixie from school. “I don’t feel right taking Lucifer’s offer to stay in Maze’s apartment, but I also haven’t been able to find a job yet, and I <em>definitely</em> don’t want to move back in with Mom and Dad. I’m… trapped.”</p><p>Chloe thoughtfully doesn’t point out that this is <em>entirely</em> his own doing, he already knows that well enough, and she knows how incredibly lucky she is that she’s not sharing his exact situation right now. She opens her mouth to form an platitude when a solution strikes her like a lightning bolt, leaving her jaw hanging open for a moment. Dan notices, looking askance at her. “Chloe?  You okay?”</p><p>“I… have an idea for you.” She keeps her eyes on the road, but feels Dan’s hopeful gaze on her. “I’ve been considering what to do for the next few weeks while Lucifer is recovering. Trixie doesn’t want to leave him alone, and neither do I, so I’ve been wavering between having him at my apartment, or Trixie and I staying at Lux. I know Lucifer would be more comfortable at Lux, but that means I have to take Trixie to school and pick her up every day.”</p><p>“Okay,” he acknowledges. “what’s the idea?”</p><p>“You stay at my place, in Maze’s old room. You can have Trixie through the week so she can catch the bus, and on the weekends she can come to Lux and stay with me while I take care of Lucifer there.” Dan is silent, and Chloe goes on, “I’m trusting you here, Dan. Trusting you <em>not</em> to take our daughter and hare off, to prove you really want to make this work. And of course, it’ll depend on whether Trixie is comfortable staying with you at this point. If she’s not, you can still stay at the apartment, she can stay at Lux with me and maybe we can work out something where <em>you </em>can do transport to and from school until she’s more comfortable with you. But I’m going to need to go back to work soon, and if you can pick up some of that slack with Trixie, it would help me a <em>lot</em>.”</p><p>“That…” he hesitates, “Chloe are you <em>sure?</em>”</p><p>“No,” she admits candidly, “But the idea just came to me, and… even after saying it out loud it still seems like a decent one. You won’t be overrun with celestial stuff <em>all </em>the time, you won’t have to feel like you’re taking advantage of Lucifer’s hospitality, you’d be making my life a little simpler in return for getting to stay at my place while all this is going on, and you’d still have time to hunt for a job and an apartment in the meantime.  <em>And </em>all of your clothes and personal belongings are already <em>there </em>because I didn’t have anywhere else to put it when we had to clean out your place. What do you think?”</p><p>He doesn’t say anything for a little while, and she doesn’t push, content to drive in silence while he considers. Just as they reach Trixie’s school, he clears his throat and responds. “I… I think I’d like to take you up on that. If Trixie wants to stay with me, I’d love to have her, and if not… well, I can help with getting her to and from school, no problem. Do… do you still have my car?”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s parked at your parents’ place, I didn’t have a spare parking space for it. We can get it, though.” They pull into the pickup line and wait, and Chloe glances sideways at him. “You’re <em>not</em> going to make me regret this, right?”</p><p>“I won’t, Chloe, I promise. I’ve got my head back on now, no more running, no more panicking.” His eyes are steady on hers, and she nods, trusting him.</p><p>“Okay. I’ll ask Trix about it tonight then. I don’t want to put her on the spot by asking her in front of you, okay?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Dan agrees eagerly, “yeah, that’s fine.”</p><p>Trixie seems a little surprised to find Dan in the car when she climbs in the backseat, but seems to take it in stride. After cursory greetings, she immediately asks after Lucifer’s health.</p><p>“He’s okay, Trix,” Chloe assures her, laughing, “Pretty much the same as he was this morning, but we’re probably going to have to be gentle with him this evening, since he’s having a session with Dr. Linda right now.”</p><p>Dan looks at Chloe, confused, so Trixie clarifies; “Feelings are hard for Lucifer, because he hasn’t had anybody to love him for a really <em>really</em> long time. When he has to talk about them he gets really tired, and sometimes sad.”</p><p>“Yeah, Dr. Martin doesn’t pull any punches, that’s for sure,” Dan smiles. “She’s <em>really</em> good at what she does.”</p><p>“She <em>punches you?”</em> Trixie gasps incredulously, and Dan swallows his laughter to explain that <em>no,</em> Linda doesn’t punch anyone, but she doesn’t let anyone get away with anything.                                                      </p><p>“Oh,” Trixie seems disappointed. “I bet she <em>could</em> punch people, though. She’s Maze’s friend, and Maze would make sure she knows <em>how.</em>”      </p><p>“I have no doubts about that, Monkey,” Chloe chuckles. “How was your day?”</p><p>Trixie chatters about her substitute teacher and adventures in PE, and what she and her friends did during recess during the brief drive back to Chloe’s apartment.</p><p>“Why are we here?” Trixie asks anxiously, “Is Lucifer here?”</p><p>“No baby, he’s having a session with Linda right now, remember? I told him we’d be back this evening, but this way we can all grab some clean clothes and you can get your homework done while we give them some privacy.”       </p><p>“Okay,” Trixie reluctantly concedes. She settles at the table in their kitchen with her homework while Chloe gathers laundry and Dan heads up to Maze’s old room to start sorting through his own clothing. Chloe starts a load and gives Dan a heads-up that she’s going down to ask Trixie about their idea. He readily agrees to stay upstairs while they talk.</p><p>“Hey Trix,” Chloe enters the kitchen and starts making a snack for her daughter to tide her over ‘til they can have dinner with Lucifer later. “I’ve got a question for you.”</p><p>“Yeah, Mom?” Trixie looks up from her math worksheet curiously.</p><p>“Your dad and I were talking on the way to get you, and I had an idea,” Chloe starts, watching her daughter’s face closely. “Your dad thinks it’s a good one, but we wanted to make sure it was something you’d be comfortable with. And if you’re not, it’s completely okay, we have other options, too.”</p><p>“What idea?” Trixie narrows her eyes suspiciously.</p><p>“You know your dad doesn’t have an apartment right now.” Trixie slowly nods her head. “And you remember how we were trying to decide the best way to make sure that we don’t leave Lucifer alone while he’s hurt, but we also need to make sure you can get to school and back every day.” The nodding continues. “Well, I thought your dad could stay here for a while, in Maze’s old room while he’s looking for a job, and for his own apartment.”</p><p>“You want dad to stay here with you, me, and Lucifer?” Trixie asks, confused.</p><p>“Well, no. I thought that Lucifer and I would stay at Lux while he was recovering and you… well, it would depend on what you decide. If you’re comfortable with your dad, you could stay with us at Lux on the weekends and here during the week so you could take the bus to and from school, and he’d be here when you got home. Or, you could stay at Lux with me and Lucifer, and your dad would be able to pick you up in the morning and pick you up after school. I’m going to have to go back to work soon, so you could hang out with your dad after school until I’m off work… You don’t have to decide right now, but… it’s something to think about, okay?”</p><p>Her daughter makes a skeptical noise, and regards her carefully. “What really happened this weekend, Mommy? Whatever it was, it was really bad.”</p><p>“What makes you say that, sweetie?” Chloe prevaricates.</p><p>“You were really scared yesterday when you came to pick me up, and then you didn’t want to let me see Lucifer until after you went to talk to him first.” Her not-so-little girl crosses her arms over her chest. <em>“Something</em> really bad happened, and it wasn’t just Lucifer getting hurt. Last time you were that scared was when he got poisoned, and the time before that it was when the bad man came and got me from school.”</p><p>“You’re right, Trixie,” Chloe sighs. “I didn’t want to tell you yet, because I know it’s going to upset you, and I wanted to wait until Lucifer was feeling better so you wouldn’t be so worried about him.”</p><p>“Is he okay?” the girl’s voice is small and scared, but her gaze doesn’t waver.</p><p>“He’s going to be fine once he heals,” Chloe assures her. “But, his brother didn’t just <em>hurt</em> him, he, um.. he actually killed him—for a little while. But he’s back now, and safe, and healing just fine!”</p><p>Trixie’s eyes widen and fill with tears at Chloe’s admission, and Chloe rushes to gather her into her arms. “He’s going to be <em>fine</em>, and we’re working on finding a way to keep Michael from hurting anyone ever again.”</p><p>She feels the tiny body in her arms trembling, and hot tears spill down her own cheeks, acknowledging her own pain and fear from the situation Michael had placed them all in. Trixie wraps her own arms around her mother’s neck and buries her face in her shoulder, mumbling into the fabric there, “He really <em>is</em> okay though?”</p><p>“Yeah baby.  He’s still got some healing to do, but we’re doing everything we can to keep him with us, and he’s not in any danger right now since we have Michael locked up.”</p><p>“Why haven’t you arrested him?  If he… if he did that, he should be in <em>jail</em>.”</p><p>“He definitely should, you’re right Monkey… but we had to take his sword away from him and hide it so he can’t use it to hurt Lucifer or anyone else again. And since Lucifer is alive, and we don’t have the weapon for evidence, we don’t have enough evidence to arrest Michael for murder… or attempted murder.”</p><p>“Can we go see Lucifer now?” Trixie pleads, and Chloe wants more than anything to say yes.</p><p>“He’s probably still talking to Linda, Trix. Why don’t you try calling him? I’m sure he’ll pick up if he’s not in session, and if not you can leave him a message, and we’ll see him when we get there later.”</p><p>*</p><p>“—and he’s spent so long alienating everyone, that <em>I</em> can’t think of anyone that would be willing to help him escape,” Raphael was saying, when he was cut off by Lucifer’s telephone ringing on the bedside table. Everyone glances at it, startled.</p><p>“My apologies, Doctor, I forgot to silence it, but—” he glances apologetically at her, “that’s the Urchin’s ringtone. I can’t imagine that she would be calling me without a valid reason.”</p><p>Linda nods. “Quick break, then.”</p><p>Lucifer reaches for the phone, swiping to answer just before his voicemail picks up. “Hello Spawn, what—are you quite all right?” He leans forward, as though preparing to launch from the bed. “Of course I’m—well, not <em>fine</em> precisely, but no worse off than when you left this morning. What—?" A brief pause where the sound of hiccupping, unintelligible words spew from the speaker of his phone, and a look of bewilderment sets on his features. “Beatrice, I’m gathering that your mother has informed you of the entirety of what occurred this weekend, but—” He’s cut off again, and the puzzlement deepens. “Yes, of course I <em>was</em>, but I’m not anymore—you’re talking to me right this moment, after all?  I… I’m afraid I don’t understand why you’re upset, Urchin. Well, yes, I <em>can</em> see where you might be upset if I <em>were</em> still—but—No, I was incredibly sad to be leaving you behind. Well of course, I was. As I told you before, I still don’t have access to Heaven, so… No, I didn’t. At least, not immediately. <em>Yes,</em> but only for a little… oh, bollocks I’m making it worse, aren’t I?” He sighs heavily. “Just a moment, Beatrice, all right?” He pulls the phone from his ear, setting it down as he moves wearily to the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry Linda, brothers—I have something I need to handle. I’ll be back soon as I may.” He stands carefully and unfurls his wings as he makes his way unsteadily to the balcony.</p><p>“Lucifer, are you sure that’s a—” Linda calls after him, but he’s already gone. She exchanges worried glances with Arael. “Do we think he’s going to make it?”</p><p>The faint sound of a ruckus erupts from the still-connected phone, left on the edge of the bed, and Arael smirks. “Yes. Yes, we do.”</p><p>Raphael shakes his head, casting his eyes to the heavens.</p><p>*</p><p>Chloe gives Trixie some space for her phone call to Lucifer, but remains nearby. She’s standing at the entry table where she can hear her daughter’s sobbed responses to whatever he’s saying, but her body language is already more relaxed just from being able to speak with him. She takes the opportunity to sort through the accumulated mail stacked there while she waits.</p><p>“Lucifer?” Trixie’s sobs quiet for a moment as she waits for a response. <em>“Lucifer? Are you okay??”</em></p><p>Chloe’s heading for Trixie when a thud sounds on the door, as though something heavy was thrown against it. She glances at her daughter, then turns to the door, peering out the peephole, which is obscured by something large and white. <em>What on… he wouldn’t.</em></p><p>He would. She throws the door open, finding a haggard devil bracing himself against her doorframe and hastily folding his wings away. She steps in to support him and his arm closes around her as he staggers inside, calling, “Urchin?”</p><p>“Lucifer!” Trixie bolts into the entryway a bare moment later, throwing herself against his side. He finds himself very glad for Chloe’s support, because even Trixie’s slight weight would have bowled him over after his flight.</p><p>“Yes, Offspring, I <em>told</em> you that I’m doing quite as well I was this morning, do you believe me <em>now?”</em> His breathlessness catches her attention, and she pulls back just enough to look up at him.</p><p>“You look really tired,” she sniffles, and Chloe feels him trembling against her as she helps him to the couch.</p><p>“Yes, well, flying here may not have been the best idea, but you were <em>crying</em> and I know that launching yourself at me seems to having a calming effect on you, for some undadly reason.” He tries to scoff, but it comes out as a weak wheeze. “Though I’m afraid Linda’s going to be angry with me for leaving so suddenly. Once your offspring is calmed, would you mind giving me a ride back to Lux, at your convenience, Detective?”</p><p>“Dr. Linda says Miss Ella just showed up at Lux, so she can talk with her while she’s waiting for you to get back.” Trixie sniffles again as she curls into his right side on the couch. “Thank you for coming to make me feel better, Lucifer. I’m sorry it made you so tired.”</p><p>“Yes, well,” he sniffs, trying to maintain some dignity with a leaking 10-year-old attached to his waist. “It was worth the effort if you <em>are</em> feeling better. I… don’t like it when you’re upset, child. I trust you’ll not use that against me.”</p><p>“I’ll try not to,” she whispers against him, and he gently squeezes her shoulders.</p><p>“Perhaps you could simply summon an Uber for me, Detective?” He looks over at Chloe, perched close beside him on the couch. “I know you weren’t intending to return to Lux until later this evening, but it was very rude of me to leave without attending my session with Linda.”</p><p>“No, of course I can take you,” Chloe gives Trixie a <em>look</em> when she starts to protest. “You <em>flew</em> all the way here because Trixie was upset. I think she’ll be okay staying here with Dan for a while, then <em>they</em> can take an Uber back to Lux when they’re ready.  <em>Right, Trix?”</em></p><p>Trixie understands that her mom wants her to take the time to finish her homework, calm down, and spend some time with her dad to see how comfortable she is around him. She also knows that she needs to let Lucifer go so he can have <em>his</em> much-needed session with his Doctor, so she reluctantly nods and releases her grip on her friend.</p><p>“Let me fill Dan in on what needs to be done before he leaves to come back to Lux, and we can go,” Chloe sighs as she stands from the couch. “I’ll be back down in 10 minutes.”</p><p>“My apologies, Detective,” Lucifer murmurs once they make it to the car. “I truly didn’t think the flight would wear me out quite so badly, I thought I’d be able to make it back on my own.”</p><p>“It’s no trouble, Lucifer,” Chloe reaches across and grabs his hand in hers, frowning when it feels cooler than it had earlier that afternoon. “I was going to try to make it back to Lux in time for a joint session with you and Linda anyway, if that’s something you still think you want us to try.”</p><p>“I think it would be a good thing for us, Detective, at least to give us a good foundation for what we’re hoping to build here.” The fatigue in his voice is so heavy he’s nearly slurring. “But I don’t know if I have the energy for two sessions today.”</p><p>“Go ahead and sleep,” she urges him. “We’re going to hit some rush hour traffic, I bet, so just sleep, and I’ll wake you when we get to Lux and see how you feel.”</p><p>He’s asleep before she can finish her sentence.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Pardon the Mess</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe wasn’t wrong about rush hour. Even though they had left her apartment before four o’clock, it takes over an hour to reach Lux, and Lucifer sleeps soundly through the entire crawling journey. She texts Linda when they pull in the parking garage, and she responds saying she’d just finished Ella’s session a few minutes ago, so she could use a bit of a break before starting Lucifer’s anyway. Chloe orders Chinese for dinner to be delivered for everyone, making a mental note to start cooking more—or at least stocking the kitchen so she (or Lucifer, when he’s better) <em>can</em> cook more. She glances over at her lightly snoring devil, relieved to see that his coloring is <em>finally </em>back to normal. Chloe grabs the folding transport chair from the trunk of her car and clumsily unfolds it before opening the passenger side door and unbuckling Lucifer’s seatbelt. The faint <em>snick</em> and slither of the restraint is what wakes him with a jolt, hissing a surprised breath.</p><p>“Easy, Lucifer,” Chloe gives him a moment to adjust. “Come on, we’re home now, just slide into the chair and I can get you upstairs.”</p><p>“Detective, I’m perfectly capable—” he argues, and she cuts him off.</p><p>“You nearly collapsed when you got to my door, and again on the way out to the car. You’re riding in this, or I’m calling Arael to come and <em>carry you</em>.”</p><p>“I’d have to pray to him to ask, and no <em>way</em> is that—”</p><p>“Then I’ll call Linda, and <em>she’ll</em> ask him, he’s still on the penthouse level.” Chloe’s eyebrows lift and she slowly pulls out her phone, sensing her victory. Lucifer gives in, grumbling as he sets his shaky right leg on the pavement, carefully lifting his weight and folding his length awkwardly into the tiny chair in one, nearly-fluid movement. The little chair squeaks under his considerable weight, but holds without further complaint as Chloe wheels him toward the lift.</p><p>“How is it that you’re so heavy for your size, but you can still fly?” She asks, partly because she’s curious, and partly to fill the time on the elevator ride.</p><p>“Angels exist outside most of the laws of physics on this plane,” he says casually. “That’s why I can fold my wings away, and why I can fly. Our biological material is extremely dense, that’s why we can withstand travel to the other planes, or extra-atmospheric conditions. If there <em>were </em>a bird my size and weight, its wingspan would need to be much bigger than mine to sustain true flight… and that wouldn’t be easy to manage with the available environments on this planet.”</p><p>“Hmm,” is Chloe’s only response, as the elevator chimes, opening to the populated penthouse. Arael and Ella are perched on the settee, while Linda and Raphael have each taken one of the matching chairs opposite.</p><p>“Lucifer!” Linda starts to rush to the elevator, but he holds up a placatory hand.</p><p>“Just a precaution, Doctor,” he reassures her, “The Detective is being a bit… overprotective… and my brief flight did tire me out a bit more than I had thought it would.”  Chloe snorts softly but places a gentle hand on his right shoulder, which he reaches up to squeeze. “My apologies for leaving so suddenly, but the Detective’s offspring had just been informed of my temporary death and was… very upset.”</p><p>Linda’s gaze flicks up to Chloe, relaxing a little as she reads the expression there. “She felt a lot better once she could <em>see</em> that Lucifer was still with us, and attach herself to him for a few minutes.”</p><p>A ripple of soft laughter spreads through the room, with nearly everyone present being familiar with Trixie’s penchant for clinging hugs. Raphael doesn’t laugh, but his eyes are focused on his fallen brother.</p><p>“Would you allow me to assist with your fatigue?” he asks suddenly, as though afraid if he doesn’t speak as quickly as possible, he wouldn’t speak at all. “I, er, I’ve seen the aftermath of a couple of Dr. Martin’s sessions now, and they appear to be wearying. If I can help… I would be honored to.”</p><p>“I’m only a little weary, Raphael, I’m sure your skills won’t be necessary,” Lucifer’s brow wrinkles in consternation as his brother’s expression falls. Chloe’s hand tightens on his shoulder and he glances up at her, still standing behind him. Her gaze meets his and she lifts her eyebrows in suggestion, flicking her gaze pointedly to Linda and then back to him. He sighs softly, and continues, “But if you’re serious about your offer, an energy boost would be most welcome, and allow me to be more productive today, thank you.”</p><p>A slow, genuine smile creeps across Raphael’s face and he crosses the room quickly to bend over the chair. His emerald eyes meet Lucifer’s mahogany ones, and he stretches out his hand, lightly resting his index and middle fingers at the center of Lucifer’s forehead. Chloe feels only a faint tingling and flare in her chest, while Lucifer stiffens and pulls in a deep breath, his chest expanding. He closes his eyes in relief as he feels the delightful, now slightly unfamiliar sting of pure divine light trickling in to replenish his decimated energy reserves, saturating him to the brim with a vitality he’d been sorely lacking since he awoke back within his body. Raphael pulls back, satisfied, at Lucifer’s relaxed exhale.</p><p>“There you are,” Raphael chuckles quietly, straightening. “I hadn’t realized you still had that sparkle in your eyes, Sa—er, Lucifer, but I suppose the last time I saw you, you certainly weren’t in top form, either.”</p><p>“Ah, yes,” Lucifer agrees awkwardly. “I’m given to understand that poison and experimental treatments can definitely dull one’s innate energies.” Raphael moves to turn away, and Lucifer hesitantly reaches out, catching the sleeve of his robes with his fingertips. “Thank you brother, I <em>do</em> feel better.”</p><p>“Of course you do,” Raphael replies, but his superior air is slightly ruined by the smile still lingering on his face. “I <em>am</em> the Healer, after all. And I’ve been away from home long enough. Father only knows what our siblings have managed to do to themselves during my absence.” He shudders dramatically. “Dr. Martin, speaking with you has been enlightening! I look forward to future conversations. Arael, we’ll be needing your input on your Gardens, if they’re to be modified to hold Michael.”</p><p>Arael looks up from his conversation with Ella, startled. “Of course, Raphael. I think we’re just waiting to hear from Amenadiel on whether Father will allow him back within the Silver City for his recovery, yes?”</p><p>“Something like that,” Raphael agrees wryly. “Shall we all agree to keep one another informed, then?”</p><p>“Agreed,” Lucifer and Arael chorus, and Raphael nods his farewell and takes his leave.</p><p>Lucifer rakes his gaze across the room, surreptitiously taking in Arael and Ella’s closeness on the couch. “The Detective has ordered dinner for us, which should be here shortly. Doctor, have you a preference on how we should proceed? I find myself quite refreshed.”</p><p>“I, uh, should go,” Ella stands quickly, slinging her crossbody bag over her shoulders. “Linda, I <em>so </em>appreciate you talking with me today, I can’t even begin—”</p><p>“Anytime you have something you <em>can’t</em> speak to your regular psychologist, please consider my door open, Ella,” Linda grins at her tribe-mate, then turns to her friend. “Lucifer, since dinner’s on its way, let’s sit and chat for a little and we can informally catch up. We can start our session when dinner arrives.”</p><p>Lucifer resigns himself to letting Chloe wheel him over to the couch and Arael accompanies Ella out, saying he needs to check on Michael anyway. Linda smiles quietly to herself, watching them all carefully. The elevator doors close behind Arael and Ella, leaving the three alone.</p><p>“So, Trixie’s feeling better?” Linda’s focus is on Lucifer, but it’s Chloe that responds.</p><p>“I hadn’t wanted to tell her about Michael actually <em>killing</em> Lucifer until he was… more obviously okay. But when she flat-out asked me exactly what happened this weekend, I didn’t want to lie to her.”</p><p>“She only would have asked me, when she knew you weren’t telling her the entire truth, Detective.”</p><p>“I know,” Chloe acknowledges with a small laugh, “and that’s one reason I told her the truth. I thought that the phone conversation would be enough to calm her, if you answered, but…”</p><p>“But Lucifer decided the hands-on approach was best?” Linda supplies with a smile.</p><p>“Um, it <em>was</em> effective,” Lucifer protests. “The Urchin stopped crying shortly after I arrived.”</p><p>“She did,” Chloe agrees, “Hugging you always makes her feel better.”</p><p>“I’ve noticed,” he sniffs, and both women carefully avoid each other’s eyes in order to stifle their laughter. Of course he’d noticed, that’s why he <em>went.</em></p><p>“Well, at least there are no more bombshells for her to discover now, right?” Linda asks hopefully.</p><p>“Not that I’m aware of,” Lucifer admits, after a moment of thought. His glance slides over his shoulder to Chloe, who shakes her head.</p><p>“Good, that’s good.” She pulls in a breath, and changes the subject. “I did talk with Raphael and Arael a little more about their idea for Michael to heal in the Garden once they get it walled off—that does seem a reasonable place to keep him. He won’t be able to escape, and you’ll definitely be out of his reach. But I did point out that he’s also probably going to need some kind of therapy, unless they’re planning to simply keep him there indefinitely. It sounds like he had some antisocial tendencies prior to his injury, but Raphael’s thinks it’s likely that those tendencies have gotten much worse <em>after</em> the injury.”</p><p>“I really don’t know, Doctor,” he muses slowly. “When he cast me out of Heaven, he told me the only reason he didn’t kill me <em>then</em> was because there was a chance that I wouldn’t wind up in Hell. Perhaps he has gotten worse as time’s gone on, but I’m not able to make that observation.”</p><p>“Did something more happen between the two of you?” Linda asks quietly. “Something to make him focus his… malevolence on you?”</p><p>“If something did, <em>I</em> certainly can’t recall it. We were never particularly close, Michael was always… competitive.” His brow wrinkles. “Always wanting <em>more</em>, a bit like a black hole, really—always hungry. The last time we truly worked together was on the star project. He was responsible for manifesting the materials and the raw power, and I did the work in the design and the process of creation. We worked together then as well as Light and Darkness can. That was ages before the Garden incident, though, I’ve really no idea what inspired that particular bit of malicious mischief.”</p><p>The elevator chimes, announcing the arrival of dinner, which rapidly disappears into their ravenous stomachs.</p><p>“I’ll head down to Maze’s apartment and check in with her and Arael,” Chloe stands when she’s finished and clears the empty containers scattered over the low table. “I’ll make sure Dan and Trixie know to stop there instead of coming up here, okay?”</p><p>She takes the second bag of food in hand, and Lucifer catches her wrist gently in his fingers as she passes. Their eyes meet in brief, affectionate glance. “Thanks, love.”</p><p>“I’ll see you in a bit.”</p><p>*</p><p>“Father!” Amenadiel and Phanuel chorus.</p><p>“Your sister is correct, Amenadiel, differing perspectives <em>are</em> important when considering the truth.” He smiles at His startled children. “I’m glad to see you’re taking your new duties as mouthpiece seriously, Phanuel, I know you’ve had fair little to keep you truly occupied of late.”</p><p>“I admit I was somewhat flattered when Arael told me Lucifer had suggested me for this.” Phanuel’s crystal blue eyes never leave her father’s face. He shows Himself to His children so rarely that they all watch Him eagerly whenever He does emerge from His workshop. “I am determined to do justice.”</p><p>“Then I know Lucifer will be grateful,” Amenadiel assures her smoothly. “Justice is all he has ever asked.”</p><p>“And I know justice is what brings you to My doorstep today, son.” God’s deep brown eyes crinkle at the corners in a smile, as he gestures to the door of the workshop, inviting Amenadiel inside. “Phanuel, I believe your questioning was complete?”</p><p>“It was, Father. I have only Lucifer to follow up with now.”</p><p>“Excellent. You may let him know that Amenadiel will return shortly, when you see him.” Phanuel recognizes the dismissal, nodding a farewell to her brother as she turns to go.</p><p>Amenadiel once again steps across the threshold of his father’s workshop, and the world behind him vanishes, replaced with the swirling chaos of God’s own workspace. The last time he was here he had been too preoccupied to pay attention to his surroundings. This time, while certainly still preoccupied, he’s determined not to lose the opportunity. He can feel his father’s amused presence at his back, allowing him time to try to make sense of the turmoil around him. The room is lit by several small, blue-white stars hovering high, and placed so that any shadows are minimized. There’s a desk with glimmering writing on the surface that Amenadiel can’t make out, what appears to be a wall of images that blur if he looks at them too long and what appears to be a workbench that is currently clear of any projects. Implements, tools, and papers whirl around the room, never in the way but also never still. Amenadiel shakes his head, wondering how his father, known for his meticulous planning, can stand such a disorganized workspace.</p><p>“It all answers to My needs, son,” God supplies the answer. “It only appears random to anyone who isn’t Me. And yes, the Lightbringer did, in fact design these stars for this workspace. They have served Me well for eons, as has he.”</p><p>“Father, You know he doesn’t think that.”</p><p>“Yes,” God agrees sadly. “I don’t see <em>well</em> into Hell, but I did see some of what happened after Michael decided to make him Fall rather than merely escorting him. I know he thinks that I have been punishing him for billions of years… just as I know that by <em>not</em> acting, in a way I have been responsible. As I warned you before, Amenadiel, once free will is in play, I cannot change what is done with it or the entire point is moot.”</p><p>“As with me?” He turns to face his father, but keeps his eyes downcast.</p><p>“As with you,” God’s tone is gentle, and Amenadiel slowly lifts his eyes from the floor. “Some of your choices surprised me, but I am proud of how hard you have worked to atone and make yourself worthy again in your own eyes. And Mine.”</p><p>A warmth washes over Amenadiel and he feels muscles he didn’t realize were tense relax. “Father, I’ve come to ask for your permission to bring Michael to Arael’s Garden. He needs to heal, and the fastest way for him to do so is here, where the divinity he needs to… to rebuild his soul is thickest. Gabriel and Raphael have considered, and deemed Arael’s Garden to be the safest place to confine him while his healing takes place, once we finish sealing the gates to prevent escape. Since he’s targeted Lucifer several times now, it would keep him safe, and he also nearly killed a human when he attacked Lucifer the last two times.”</p><p>“I did see that,” A near-literal thundercloud rumbles across God’s expression at his Sword’s actions. “And you performed admirably in this most recent incident, as I was sure you would. I agree that keeping Michael here in the Silver City will allow him to heal faster, and won’t require any of My other children to become his jailers. After seeing what assigning you to keep Lucifer to his tasks in Hell did to the both of you… I would prefer not to repeat that mistake with anyone else.”</p><p>“Thank you, Father,” Relief floods through Amenadiel that none of them will be forced to become Michael’s keepers. “I’ll speak with Gabriel about arranging the work sealing the gates before I leave.”</p><p>“Very well, My son. You have my permission for your request. Was there anything else?” God smiles widely at his eldest child, knowing full well he has many questions, but interested to see which, if any he will choose to ask.</p><p>“I—” Amenadiel swallows, his throat suddenly dry. “You already know about my fight with Remiel, about my child?”</p><p>“Naturally.”</p><p>“My son will be raised on Earth. He will be loved and protected, and I will not allow any of my siblings to take him from me.”</p><p>“That decision is your right to make, in conjunction with the child’s mother, of course.”</p><p>Amenadiel nods, content with the answers he’s received.  “Thank you, Father. I should speak with Gabriel, and get back to Earth.”</p><p>God watches him go, a small smile playing on his lips.</p><p>*</p><p>“Well,” Linda smiles at her favorite patient, seated across the table. “I know how you’re doing physically, so please tell me how you’re <em>feeling</em>.”</p><p>“Still playing a bit of catch-up, Doctor.” He answers honestly (as always, when he’s not deflecting a topic he doesn’t want to discuss). “I find that I still can’t really adjust to the level of fuss over a few wounds—”</p><p>“Lucifer, it’s not just a few wounds, you were <em>murdered,”</em> Linda points out. “By your <em>brother</em>.”</p><p>“But I’m alive <em>now</em>, Doctor,” he replies, confused. “I’m not dead, and I’m healing quite well according to Raphael, so… why is everyone still so upset?”</p><p>“Okay, let me ask you this: When Chloe was poisoned, dying—how did you feel about that?”</p><p>“That was nearly two years ago, I fail to see how that’s relevant?” Lucifer shifts in his seat anxiously, reaching for the glass of water that Linda had placed there before the session started.</p><p>“Humor me, please, I promise it’s leading to a point of comparison. How did you feel about that?” She watches him, picking up the little stress signals he’s sending off: the slowly tightening muscles, re-crossing his legs, fidgeting with the glass in his hand.</p><p>“As you well know, there was a <em>lot</em> going on just then. I was… I was many things. I was angry at Mum for pushing me toward the Detective, furious at Father for placing her here, for placing her <em>in danger</em>, because of me.” He takes a shuddering breath, and continues more quietly, “Terrified that she would die and be forever out of reach, while at the same time I knew that if I saved her, if <em>we </em>saved her, I would need to remove myself from her life to preserve her ability to choose. I was… well, I suppose devastated wouldn’t be too strong a word, overall.”</p><p>“Okay,” Linda nods. “How did you feel when Trixie, Eve, and Ella were nearly injured right in front of you?”</p><p>“I was bloody <em>livid,”</em> he growls, hunching his shoulders against the onslaught of those memories. She gives him a moment to think before fishing further.</p><p>“So, more anger, but what else?”</p><p>“I was… distressed… at the very real possibility that I might not be able to protect them well enough, to keep them safe from the harm they’d been introduced to—again, because of <em>me</em>, because of my presence in their lives.”</p><p>“And when Chloe was shot a month or so ago? What did you feel then?”</p><p>“You were at the hospital, Doctor, you know the state I was in.” The devil grumbles and thankfully her professional face doesn’t waver. He knows where she’s going with this, he’s already hooked but he still doesn’t want to admit it. “But that doesn’t answer my question. I… That can’t be why they’re making such a fuss over <em>my</em> death.”</p><p>“What can’t be why they’re making a fuss?” She continues to reel her flailing patient closer to the shore of truth.</p><p>“The… the way I feel for them, they don’t feel that way about me.” This is spoken with total belief and utmost confidence, and Linda hides the fact that her heart is breaking for this man before her, her friend.</p><p>“And why is that?”</p><p>“They all <em>know</em> what I am, Doctor,” he elaborates, exasperated. “<em>No one</em> can love the devil, it’s simply not possible.”</p><p>“So, you love them,” Linda rephrases his statements, and he startles at her declaration, “But they can’t love you?”</p><p>“Of course I love them,” he admits quietly, almost painfully. “I would give anything, <em>do</em> anything to protect them from harm, to keep them safe and happy. But it’s not possible for them to feel that way about <em>me.”</em></p><p>“Yet Ella has referred to you many times as her brother, Trixie considers you part of her family, and Eve left Heaven to come and see you.”</p><p>“Family means different things to different people, Doctor,” he admits brokenly. “Just because they have earned my regard and protection certainly doesn’t mean that I would sentence them to… to doing the same for me! Miss Lopez is a ray of light in this world, and is far too kind to push anyone away, and Beatrice is much the same… and quite possibly too young to truly know better. Eve had her own reasons for leaving Heaven, I was merely a convenient excuse for a destination.”</p><p>“And Chloe?”</p><p>“The Detective…” he hesitates, swallows thickly. “She’s… difficult. I’ve tried to explain my views on this to her many times, but she gets so upset that I… I couldn’t keep doing that to her. She does seem to truly believe that she loves me.”</p><p>“But you don’t think that’s the case?”</p><p>“I… believe that <em>she</em> believes it,” he concedes roughly. “And I’ve stopped trying to convince her otherwise. But as I told you, it’s simply not <em>possible.”</em></p><p>“And why <em>is</em> that, Lucifer?”</p><p>“Well, even <em>God</em> couldn’t manage it, could he?” Lucifer spits bitterly. “If the being that all of humanity acknowledges as the fount of love and all that is good in the world couldn’t scrape up a little love for me, why in Hell would <em>anyone</em> else be able to? I spent <em>thousands upon thousands</em> of years in Hell trying to please him, to complete my tasks as he’d ordered, and <em>nothing!</em> Not a word, an acknowledgement, nothing but silence and more suffering—so I gave up, came here, tried to start over, but…” He sags now, anger spent. He abandons his glass, rests his elbows on his knees and rests his forehead in his trembling palms. “I can’t have a fresh start, because my past <em>haunts me</em>. I’m torn between… knowing I don’t deserve love, and not wanting to be alone anymore. But anyone I allow close is endangered, and-and it’s eating me alive, Doctor.”</p><p>“These people in your life,” Linda begins gently, fighting her unprofessional urge to wrap him in a hug. “These people you love-- they all <em>know</em> who you are, Lucifer, and they’ve decided to love you… <em>because of who you are.” </em>He looks up at her with a bleak expression, and she continues. “Not <em>what</em> you are, or what your father forced you to be, but because of <em>who you are</em>, who <em>you</em> are choosing to be. They—<em>we</em>—choose to love you because you’ve chosen to love us, because you <em>are</em> worthy of love, and of being loved in return. We <em>see</em> you, as you see us. It’s okay to choose your family, Lucifer, but you have to let them <em>choose you back.</em>”</p><p>He stares at her as though she’s just finished spouting advanced thermodynamics at him, and in the silence between them her session-end reminder sounds. She stifles a sigh. This session didn’t take the direction she’d wanted to steer it, but she feels that it was a productive one nonetheless.</p><p>“I’d like you to really <em>think</em> about this conversation this week, Lucifer, and we’ll discuss any further thoughts or questions next week about it. I’d also like to ask you to consider telling me the story that you told Arael, Azrael, Chloe, and Trixie last week, about the events leading up your fall and afterward. It may help me help Chloe—she didn’t want to tell me your story, and frankly, I’d rather hear it from you… but only when you’re ready.”</p><p>His eyes had widened at her request, but he relaxes minutely when she gives him the option of deciding when he’s ready to go through it again. He knows going through it with Linda won’t be the same as it was with the others, she’ll need to ask questions, push for more details. He picks up his glass again and drains it nervously, nodding his agreement to consider.</p><p>“Did you have anything else you wanted to discuss today, before we close the session?” He shakes his head mutely and she goes on. “Did you want to try a joint session with Chloe today?”</p><p>“It’s getting late, Doctor, and you’ve already spent your entire day on my issues. Chloe and I can wait another week or so, I think.”</p><p>“All right then,” Linda stands and gives him a warm smile. “I’ll see you again before your next session, but you know you can call me if you need anything.”</p><p>“Of course, Doctor,” he grins up at her, but the sparkle is still missing from his eyes as she takes her leave. He waits until the elevator doors close behind her, then he stands carefully and crosses to the bar, pouring himself a tumbler and taking a deep drink.</p><p>“Hello, Lucifer.” The low, clear voice rings out behind him and he sighs, pouring himself a heftier portion of his whiskey as he turns.</p><p>“Phanuel,” he greets cautiously. “Welcome to my humble abode. Pardon the mess, will you? It’s not completely repaired from Michael’s little temper tantrum.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Don't Tell My Therapist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Phanuel’s gaze travels around the flat, taking in every detail hungrily. Lucifer notes her interest and gives her a moment to absorb her surroundings.</p><p>“Have you been to Earth before, Phanuel?”</p><p>“Once, just after Creation,” her eyes are drawn to the floor-to-ceiling windows and she drifts in their direction, gazing out in wonder. “Things have changed.”</p><p>“Humans thrive on change,” Lucifer observes fondly. “It’s largely how they survive.” He slowly sips his drink, savoring the smoky flavors on his tongue and the warmth blooming in his stomach as it slides down his throat. He absently scratches at the edges of the wound on his shoulder, cursing quietly to himself as he breaks the scab and it starts to trickle blood again.</p><p>Phanuel turns at his words, concern flitting across her face as he turns away to grab a towel to press against the freshly-bleeding injury. “Lucifer, you’re bleeding?”</p><p>“Yes, it’s merely a trickle, nothing to fret over,” he glosses over her unease with a weak wave of his left hand, as the right is busy pressing the towel to the laceration. “I knocked loose part of the scab, that’s all. It will stop again soon.”</p><p>“Ah,” Phanuel nods as though she understands. “I have some questions for you, further details of your story to ask about, if I am to become the mouthpiece for the truth in the Silver City with our siblings. Do you have some time to answer them?”</p><p>“I have plenty of time at the moment,” he smirks. “I’m recovering, and my friends are a bit overprotective.”</p><p>“Friends?” Phanuel prompts. “Arael left your story with your arrival on Earth with the intention to stay. I’ve gotten a bit more information from Amenadiel on the intervening years, but I’d hoped you could fill in the missing pieces for me.”</p><p>“I’m always willing to provide the light of truth, sister,” Lucifer promises. “Ask.”</p><p>“Amenadiel told me you cut off your wings after you decided to stay, but he wasn’t able to articulate your reasoning. Can you tell me why?”</p><p>“I had multiple reasons at the time,” Lucifer begins slowly. “I wanted to make a statement, most of all—that I was here to stay, no intentions of returning to Hell whatsoever. I wanted to <em>show</em> Father that I no longer considered myself <em>of Him</em>, and the best way to do that at the time was to remove the most obvious mark of Him that I had, the wings.”</p><p>“But you didn’t destroy them, then?”</p><p>“No, I… hid them.” He admits quietly. “I didn’t <em>want</em> to destroy them entirely, in case I <em>needed</em> to retreat to Hell for some reason, and… well. Don’t tell my therapist I said this, or I’ll never hear the end of it, but… they were a part of me that I wasn’t ready to give up. My, my history if you will. I’d already lost so many memories of Father, of the Silver City, obliterated during the eons in Hell, and—and I didn’t want to completely lose that part of me, even if I didn’t want to be fully connected to it anymore.”</p><p>“You sought distance, from the pain they brought to mind.”</p><p>“In a way, yes.” Lucifer’s brows lift, surprised at his sister’s understanding. “I didn’t want to destroy them, but when they were stolen and wound up in human hands, I knew they were too dangerous to keep any longer, so I burned them.”</p><p>“Yes, Amenadiel told me about that, and the aftermath.”</p><p>“Really?” Now his tone lifts to match his eyebrows. “He told you about our fight?  And the detective he resurrected?”</p><p>“He did,” she nods solemnly. “He fell quite far, and I am quite proud for how hard he’s worked toward his redemption.”</p><p>A small smile crosses Lucifer’s lips as he empties his glass, refills it. “He <em>is</em> much more tolerable now. Would you like a drink, Phanuel?  We should sit, this seems as though it will be a lengthy conversation.”</p><p>“I do not need refreshment, but a seat would be welcome.”</p><p>Lucifer grabs his decanter and takes it with him as he leads his younger sister to the open sitting room. He drops into one of the chairs, and she takes the other after glancing wistfully out the window.</p><p>“We can move out onto the balcony later, if you like, but I think you’d prefer to be without distraction while you’re interrogating me,” the corner of his lips quirk upward as she agrees. He proceeds to walk her through the Malcolm incident, then the trials of tracking down and containing, then eventually relocating their mother, followed by his run-ins with Cain, Abel, and now Eve. “Honestly, if you lot could just keep Adam up there, I’d really be grateful. I’ve rather got my hands full down here at the moment.”</p><p>Phanuel stifles a laugh. She hadn’t wanted to admit to herself how much she’d missed her elder brother’s humor in the intervening millennia, but now that she’s talking with him, she’s reminded of how wickedly funny he can be, even when merely telling a story. She expects no lies from him, and he tells none, doesn’t even try to embellish his tale to show himself in a better light. She stops him many times to ask clarifying questions, especially regarding what had happened to Uriel. Gabriel had informed her of Michael’s admission to planting the idea for Uriel to target Lucifer, but hearing of its result, and seeing the effect it very clearly had on the brother in front of her still leaves a yawning pit of sadness in her stomach.</p><p>Lucifer does not cry when he relates the tale of Uriel’s demise. He doesn’t allow himself the luxury of tears, hasn’t since his Fall. In Hell, tears were a fatal weakness—the resulting blurred vision could easily get even a fallen archangel killed, and afterward, well, it was merely a point of pride. He can’t stop them pooling in his eyes, but Dad damn it, he can make sure they never fall and betray their presence. His voice remains flat, emotionless during his recitation, and Phanuel asks her questions without judgement.</p><p>“So, the fight started after he tried to force you to choose between Father’s miracle, and mother. Then, Azrael’s blade didn’t come into play until he threatened to kill mother, the miracle, <em>and</em> your demon.” She’s standing now, pacing in her agitation, and his eyes are firmly fixed on the floor in front of him as he clutches the towel to his still-bleeding shoulder.</p><p>“Yes,” Lucifer’s voice is strangled, and he takes another deep swallow, welcoming the burn of the alcohol. “I’d tried every way I could to talk him down, to change his mind, but… I couldn’t. It was my only choice that didn’t involve losing her—<em>them.</em>”</p><p>She doesn’t miss the slip, and turns toward him. “The miracle means a lot to you.”</p><p>“I… I love her,” He lifts his gaze to her, his face full of worry just as the elevator dings and the doors slide open.</p><p>“Hey! What the Hell is going on here?” Chloe takes in his tense expression, the lithe frame of the woman towering over Lucifer’s slumped form, and her voice rings through the flat in her best LAPD tone. Phanuel turns her head in her direction curiously, and Lucifer quickly rises to his feet.</p><p>“Phanuel, this is Detective Chloe Decker,” he introduces quickly. “Detective, this is my sister Phanuel, she’s agreed to help spread the true story of my Fall and experiences to my siblings, to help try to reinstate my ability to visit the Silver City.”</p><p>“What happened?” Chloe crosses the room quickly, keen eyes not missing the rag clutched to Lucifer’s shoulder. “Did she—?"</p><p>“No, this isn’t Phanuel’s doing, this was me, I merely scratched at it, and the scab broke loose. It’s nearly stopped bleeding again, Detective, I’m <em>fine.”</em> Lucifer rushes to reassure her, and Chloe relaxes when she can see that the amount of blood on the towel is negligible. Phanuel watches this interplay interestedly.</p><p>“And it seems you mean quite a lot to the miracle, as well.” She observes smugly, and Chloe turns to this new angel. “Hello, Detective, it is a pleasure to meet you, Lucifer was filling in some details about his story of his life here on Earth, including your… rapport.”</p><p>“I love him,” she says simply, and Lucifer feels the familiar warm flare of their Link beside his heart. “And you can call me Chloe.”</p><p>“My brother has referred to you by your title,” Phanuel’s eyes flick to her brother.</p><p>“Yes,” Chloe agrees with a warm smile, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it. “He does that. But nearly everyone <em>else</em> calls me Chloe.” She glances at her partner. “Do you want me to go back downstairs so you can finish here?”</p><p>“No,” he replies quickly, and now Chloe feels the flare of their Link. His fingers tighten on hers. “No, Detective, if you’d like to stay, you are more than welcome to stay. It’s nothing you don’t already know, and we were just discussing Uriel…”</p><p>His voice catches on his brother’s name, and Chloe nods understandingly. She sinks down into the settee, and Lucifer wordlessly settles close beside her. Phanuel observes the way they orient themselves toward each other and a happy smile settles on her face.</p><p>
  <em>It’s good to see that Lucifer hasn’t been completely without affection… at least recently.</em>
</p><p>“Amenadiel told me that you buried Uriel, but he had to rebury him later?” She prompts gently.</p><p>“Yes…” Lucifer glances at Chloe. He hasn’t had a chance to fill her in on all the details of this particular story yet. He sighs heavily. “Mum was handing out maps to his gravesite, trying to get someone to dig it up and get their hands on Azrael’s blade in an attempt to get Dad’s attention.”</p><p>“Mom put the blade in <em>human</em> hands?” Phanuel gasps.</p><p>“Mmhm,” Lucifer agrees wryly. “We had quite the rash of stabbings until I was finally able to track down the blade. Then Daniel managed to get <em>his</em> grabby little hands on it and nearly smote me before I was able to—”</p><p>“Wait, <em>what?”</em> Chloe emits a strangled sound next to him.</p><p><em>Oops.</em> “Er, yes. I mentioned before that in human hand, the blade <em>wants</em> to be used, yes?”</p><p>“Yes…” she draws out the word, leading him on.</p><p>“Daniel really couldn’t help the compulsion, and when I stumbled across him, he actually managed to fight it, quite surprisingly well! I only got a little scratch, and was able to talk him down after that and get it away from him so I could hide it—” He speaks so quickly that the words nearly tumble over one another as they fall from his lips. He can feel Chloe growing tense next to him.</p><p>“Dan <em>scratched</em> you with the soul-eating blade.” Her voice is quiet, ominous.</p><p>“Yes?” His voice ticks up at the end of the word so it sounds like a question. “But I was fine, it barely bled at all, hardly left a scar, even.”</p><p>“Let me see.” Her implacable gaze meets his, and he knows argument will get him nowhere. His fingers move to open his black robe, and pull it back on his left side, where they trace a thin silvery line, nearly hidden by the line of his bottom rib. Chloe hadn’t even noticed it before.</p><p>“See?” He wheedles. “Perfectly fine!”</p><p>“Lucifer,” Chloe breathes, tracing her fingers along the barely-discernable ridge of scar tissue. “He could have…”</p><p>“Yes, but he <em>didn’t</em>, Detective, that’s the important thing.” His hand rests over her fingers, still brushing the scar. “He <em>fought it</em>, and I’m still here.”</p><p>“There’s no way <em>Dan</em> got the drop on you.” She states flatly. “What happened there?”</p><p>“I was being careful,” Lucifer defends himself, “I couldn’t <em>hurt</em> him, it wasn’t his fault he’d picked up the blade, after all.”</p><p>Phanuel’s gaze bounces back and forth between the two as though she’s watching a particularly interesting tennis match. “So… even though your very soul was threatened, you didn’t wish to harm this human?”</p><p>“Of course not,” the look he throws at his sister is scathing. “I only punish those that <em>deserve</em> it, and Daniel wasn’t in his right mind when he was holding that blade.  As soon as I managed to get it from him, he was back to being his completely normal dull self.”</p><p>Chloe feels a flutter of unease at how close she’d nearly come to losing him—again—without ever even knowing it, and works to tamp it down. Focuses on his warmth and vivacity there beside her, using that to ground herself.</p><p>“Anyway, after that I locked the blade up safely where no one could find it again—especially not Mum—and that’s when she decided to unveil her plot to try to get back to Heaven. Amenadiel was on board with that until he found out he was Dad’s favorite, then—”</p><p>“Wait, Amenadiel is Father’s favorite?” Phanuel breaks in. “He told you this?”</p><p>“We found it, in an ancient Sumerian book when we were reassembling the flaming sword. It set him off on a whole new tangent to protect Dad just when Mum’s light started to break through her vessel and I really needed to get her <em>off</em> this plane of existence.”</p><p>“Which is ultimately what happened.” Phanuel supplies.</p><p>“Yes,” Lucifer’s voice is strained again, and Chloe surreptitiously squeezes his hand. “Mum’s light had already accidentally killed one human when he stabbed her vessel and she… bled. Then later, she used her light to <em>torture</em> my plans out of my poor therapist. The Detective here tracked her down and was going to try to arrest her, but Amenadiel was able to stop time after I’d located the final piece of the sword, which gave <em>me</em> a chance to talk her into making a <em>new</em> home, in an empty universe.”</p><p>“So she is truly <em>gone</em>, then.” Phanuel murmurs sadly, blue eyes brimming with tears.</p><p>“I dismantled the sword again and tossed most of the pieces through the hole she went through, keeping only the key that activated the bloody thing.” Lucifer huffs. “Couldn’t have her making a new Lightbringer and trying to use <em>him</em> to slice her way back.”</p><p>His sister nods her strawberry-blonde head, waves of hair bobbing over her shoulders. “It seems you found a good solution to a bad situation, brother. It couldn’t have been easy to let her go.”</p><p>“It was too dangerous for her to stay,” he whispers hoarsely. “I just hope she’s happy there, though it can’t be any worse than Hell.”</p><p>“Amenadiel told me you regained your wings afterward.”</p><p>“Yes, I must have felt pretty bloody pleased with myself, because later that night I got knocked out and kidnapped, and woke up in the desert a day or two later with them sprouting from my bloody shoulders again.” He throws an annoyed look over his shoulders at the wings that aren’t currently there. “I cut them off I don’t know how many times, but they just kept coming back again and again. I finally figured out they <em>weren’t</em> a manipulation from Dad and decided to leave them be.”</p><p>Phanuel suppresses a shudder at the thought of her brother’s beautiful gleaming white wings, laying bloody on the floor. She hadn’t been present when he’d been cast out, and hadn’t seen the damage done to them at that time, and she was grateful for that right now, because she only had her imagination’s image, not something <em>real</em> to bring to mind.</p><p>“And that’s when Cain revealed himself to you?”</p><p>“In a manner of speaking,” Lucifer says slowly, as Chloe scoffs next to him. “He masqueraded as the new Lieutenant of Chloe’s precinct. I figured out who he was after a while, and made an agreement—at his request—to help him die. Eventually his plans got entirely too reckless. He was endangering innocent people and I told him I couldn’t be part of that, and broke the deal.”</p><p><em>“You</em> made a deal to <em>kill a human,</em> then broke it?” Phanuel breathes incredulously. “Truly?”</p><p>“He <em>wanted </em>to die. Well, up until he actually gained the <em>ability </em>to do so. And… I did <em>try</em> to break it,” he amends. “I told him I wouldn’t help him anymore, because I needed to keep the De—erm, people safe, but… I did kill him in the end, so I suppose I didn’t <em>quite </em>break it after all.”</p><p>“So you <em>did</em> kill a human.” Phanuel clarifies.</p><p>“It was ruled self-defense,” Chloe jumps in to protect her partner from the accusation she was anticipating. She knows that killing humans is one of the few rules his father put in place that Lucifer actually agrees with. “Pierce—Cain wasn’t going to stop coming after Lucifer, he told us so. He had a knife that could have killed Lucifer.”</p><p>“I am not here to judge my brother, Chloe. I am here only to make certain I have the truth of the tale I have been asked to share with my siblings.” Phanuel’s eyes nearly glow with warmth as she watches this human defend her brother from her perceived threat. “There is more to your story, brother, what happened after the death of Cain?”</p><p>Lucifer glances at Chloe worriedly. She nods and gives him a sad smile, her shoulders sagging.</p><p>“Nothing of real celestial importance, Phanuel,” he tries prevarication, but his sister shakes her head firmly.</p><p>“I am sorry, Lucifer, but it <em>is</em> relevant, as it leads to the information regarding the lifting of your ban from the Silver City. I may not need to share it all with our siblings, but <em>I </em>need to know.”</p><p>Chloe’s hand finds his and grips reassuringly as he relates the happenings of the past three months. Chloe works hard not flinch from the bare truth, and the way that Lucifer keeps his eyes fixed on their joined hands as he plays down Chloe’s exact role in what had happened. She watches Phanuel’s expression as he tells of Uriel providing the priest Kinley with the poison that was used on him, the treatment and Chloe’s subsequent possession of his former divinity.</p><p>She presses Chloe for further details on her conversations with God, and seems only slightly perturbed by the fact that a human now possesses divinity. Phanuel is used to not having all the answers when her father is involved.</p><p>Lucifer glosses over his brief return to Hell and the attempts on his life as well as he can, citing them as personal matters, unrelated to the larger situation. He finishes with Michael’s appearance, his own murder and stint in Limbo, then Hell (again glossing over his Loop), ending with his discussions with Dr. Martin, Raphael, and Arael that evening.</p><p>Phanuel is silent for a long time after he stops talking, her attention turned toward her own thoughts. Eventually, she speaks. “There is something you’re not telling me brother, but I know you are not lying. Is it relevant to my duties in being your voice in the Silver City?”</p><p>“I give you my word, sister, it is not.” Lucifer’s gaze meets Phanuel’s, and she nods to recognize the truth.</p><p>“He’s protecting me,” Chloe blurts, ignoring Lucifer’s quiet, “Detective!” from beside her.</p><p>“What he didn’t say is that… I didn’t handle it well, realizing he truly <em>is</em> who he is. I ran away, and the priest convinced me to help him send the Devil back to Hell—for a little while. I figured out my mistake pretty quickly and tried to stop him. I knocked that glass out of Lucifer’s hand, it wasn’t an accident. But all of that… it was <em>my</em> fault.”</p><p>“Detective, we’ve been over this,” Lucifer refutes gently, as Phanuel narrows her gaze on Chloe. “And as <em>you</em> convinced me—what <em>others</em> do to manipulate you <em>isn’t your fault.</em>”</p><p>“Lucifer, this <em>human</em> sought to harm you, yet you allow her by your side?” her accusation stings, but Chloe manages to keep her flinch minimal.</p><p>“The <em>Detective</em> has done nothing worse than my <em>family</em> ever did, Phanuel,” Lucifer hisses dangerously, “and she has sacrificed far more in her attempts to rectify her mistakes than <em>any</em> of you in the past few eons.” He stands, his eyes blazing red, and Chloe stands with him, holding his arm tightly for fear he may launch himself at his sister. “The <em>only</em> reason I’m even going through with this… this inquisition is for the mere possibility of being able to visit my <em>friends</em> once their Earthly lives are over. I’ve done without the rest of you for billions of years, I see <em>no reason</em> for that to change now.”</p><p>Phanuel reels back as though he’s slapped her, his raw truth bludgeoning her senses. “Brother, I—”</p><p>“Do you require anything further, <em>sister?”</em> Lucifer growls, allowing his eyes to fade back to their normal deep brown. His eyes flicker to the windows. “I find my willingness for entertaining company is fading rapidly.”</p><p>“I think I have what I need,” Phanuel licks her lips before continuing hesitantly. “You… you really have no intention of coming Home?”</p><p>“I <em>am</em> home,” he points out, suddenly exhausted. “I have made my home here, Phanuel, there are people here that I care about, that also care about me… which is more than I’ve ever had before.”</p><p>“Brother, we—”</p><p>“I am not set against renewing ties with siblings, sister,” he adds reluctantly, but his voice grows harder as he continues. “But my life here is my own, and I will tolerate no judgment of it from those who choose not to walk their own paths. You can make that known as well, if you like.”</p><p>“Understood.” She looks discomfited at the reminder that free will is hers, should she choose to take it. “May I… would I be able to come visit you in the future?  Not for an interview, merely to… to visit? I’ve missed you brother, and I would like to hear more about your life here.”</p><p>“You’re welcome to visit, Phanuel,” The last of the anger fades from his expression. “But the Detective keeps me fairly busy, so if I’m not here when you do, please leave me a message and I’ll send you a prayer when I’m available.”</p><p>“Lucifer!” The elevator chimes behind him, and Trixie emerges in a burst of excited energy. She crosses the room and wraps her arm around his waist. His gaze doesn’t waver from his sister, but he protectively closes his arm around the girl’s shoulders in a half-embrace. She notices his stiffness, and looks up, noticing the new woman in the room for the first time. “Who’re you?”</p><p>“This is one of my sisters, Urchin.” Lucifer replies quietly. “Phanuel, this is Beatrice, the Detective’s offspring. Urchin, this is Phanuel. She was just leaving.”</p><p>The angel of Hope takes her less-than-subtle cue, and steps back, toward the balcony. “Thank you for speaking with me, Lucifer. I look forward to getting to know you again.”  She takes a final look at her brother, feet defiantly planted with a small human protected in his embrace, and the miracle pressed to his other side clinging supportively to his other arm. She smiles sadly to herself. <em>It appears my brother has found a family to support him when ours did not.</em> As she steps out onto the balcony and unfurling her cream-colored, gold-streaked wings, she finds herself oddly grateful to these humans for helping him heal.</p><p>*</p><p>Lucifer has <em>just</em> managed to convince Trixie to release him when the distinctive sounds of wings drifts in from the balcony doors followed by Amenadiel calling his name.</p><p>“Oh, bloody <em>hell</em>,” Lucifer mutters under his breath, causing Chloe to stifle her smile at his exasperation. He refills his tumbler, anticipating his need for it. “All right, brother, in here.”</p><p>Amenadiel strides into the room with a wide grin on his face. “Father gave his permission! Gabriel is starting the plans for the modifications to the Garden to hold Michael.”</p><p>Some of the tension bleeds from Lucifer’s shoulders as he takes in the news. “That is <em>excellent</em> news, Amenadiel! I suppose that means I should take Arael to see his new lodgings tomorrow then, so he can start moving his equipment in.”</p><p>“I can go relieve him with Michael so he can go consult with Gabriel before then,” Amenadiel offers.</p><p>“Shouldn’t you be making a visit to Linda?” Lucifer lifts an eyebrow at his brother, who shakes his head.</p><p>“Linda told me she’s fine, and to take care of this situation first, if we can. She’s a very independent woman, Luci.” He grins at his brother, who acknowledges the observation with a grin of his own.</p><p>“I’m well aware,” he comments wryly, glancing sidelong at Chloe, who smirks at him. “You just missed Phanuel.”</p><p>“Yes, she said she was coming to see you after she spoke to me. She left when I went to speak with Father, then afterward I spent a while with Gabriel about the Garden—in between fieldling questions from our siblings.”</p><p>“Well, quite the curious creatures now, aren’t they,” Lucifer remarks, only a slight twist to his lips. “How are they reacting to the knowledge that they can have free will, if they choose to take it?”</p><p>“So far they’re more interested in you and your story, Luci.” Amenadiel admits, “Though I’ve had a few ask me about how life is on Earth.”</p><p>“Just as well,” Lucifer sighs. “I’m not certain I want a whole phalanx of angels flooding down here and settling in. It’ll be hard enough keeping track of you and Arael.”</p><p>“Who keeps track of whom, brother?” Amenadiel laughs, and even Lucifer has to chuckle a bit.</p><p>“Well it’s hardly my fault if I’m a bigger target than you are,” he scoffs, and Chloe rolls her eyes.</p><p>“How long do we think it’ll be before Michael’s off our hands and stuck in solitary?” she wonders aloud. “I won’t be able to really rest until he’s locked away.”</p><p>“It shouldn’t be too long on our end, Chloe,” Amenadiel reassures her as he makes his way toward the elevator doors. “time moves much more quickly up there, after all."</p><p>“Thank goodness for small favors,” she mutters, and Lucifer huffs a laugh as he finishes off his drink.</p><p>“Thank you Amenadiel, for the update and for… fielding our inquiries with Father. He truly <em>is</em> feeling helpful, seeing you twice about this little predicament.” Lucifer’s nose only wrinkles a little at the admission, and he glances at his empty glass, as though considering pouring some more to wash the lingering sour taste of the words from his mouth.</p><p>Amenadiel waves off the thanks as he presses the summon the lift. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything from Gabriel or Raphael. You should get some rest, you look tired.”</p><p>Lucifer’s snarky remark is lost in the chime of the doors opening, so he simply grumbles to himself. Chloe can’t quite make it out, something about being dead for a day. She decides to change the subject.</p><p>“Do you want a movie night?” She asks him quietly, not wanting Trixie to hear and get excited yet. “It’s a good way to rest without actually going to bed, or—”</p><p>“A movie night sounds lovely, Detective,” He rests an elbow on the bar, leaning in just a little too much for it to be as nonchalant as he hopes to appear. “Invite Daniel and Mazikeen up, if you like, but I doubt Maze will want to leave her guard post. You or your Spawn can choose.”</p><p>Chloe lets Trixie choose, but reserves veto power. She shoots down a couple movies before they reach a compromise. Trixie flounces down the stairs to see if Dan wants to come up to watch with them, and returns clutching his hand. Chloe queues up the movie while Lucifer and Dan gather snacks, with Trixie to guide their selections.</p><p>“Man, you have a <em>ton</em> of junk food,” Dan’s eyes widen as he takes in Lucifer’s spacious (and well-stocked) pantry.</p><p>“Yes, well,” Lucifer grins, pulling out a sleeve of Oreos and two bags of popcorn, surveying the rest for inspiration. “When one has a celestial metabolism, calories are primarily just a boring little footnote, so I eat what I like.”</p><p>“But you <em>do</em> need to eat?” Dan presses lightly, curious.</p><p>“Not always,” Lucifer considers a moment. “In the strictest sense of the term, no, I don’t <em>need</em> to eat, except under certain circumstances which will hopefully never need to be reproduced. But food can help me replenish my energies faster if I’m more depleted than usual.”</p><p>“Like now?” Trixie breaks in, and Lucifer’s gaze slides down to her warm brown eyes. “Because you’re hurt?”</p><p>“Yes, Urchin, like now. I’ve definitely been hungrier since I woke up.” his smile is kind. “I’m afraid I don’t have any chocolate cake for you, aha! But… I do have these cream-filled chocolate cupcakes, so I hope they will be a satisfactory substitution.” He hands her the cellophane packet containing two of the cupcakes and she grins up at him conspiratorially. “Your mother will likely insist that you share that!” He calls lightly after her as she bolts back into the sitting room. He grabs a bag of cheese puffs to add to his pile, and glances at Dan to see if he’s made all his selections before closing the pantry door and starting on the popcorn.</p><p>“So what kind of work are you looking for, Daniel, have you decided?” Lucifer asks innocently, turning when Dan flinches unthinkingly. “Are you all right?”</p><p>“Nah, I’m fine,” Dan hesitates, glancing toward the room where his daughter and ex-wife are negotiating the sharing of the cupcakes. “I’m just not finding a lot of options at the moment. Not quite sure what I want to do. I’m kind of looking at my options, I guess.”</p><p>“Well, nothing wrong with considering the direction you want to go. Once Michael’s gone, Maze will be back in her apartment with Eve, so you’ll have the lower level all to yourself, and that will give you some time to—”</p><p>“Oh, I guess Chloe didn’t have a chance to tell you yet,” Dan breaks in, relieved. “She actually came up with another idea that might be… easier for all of us.”</p><p>“Oh?” Lucifer prompts, interest peaked. “Do tell?”</p><p> “She offered me Maze’s old room at her place, until I can find a job and a place.” He smiles widely. “It’ll let me have my own kind-of space, and I’ll be able to get Trixie on and off the bus, and that way—” he trails off, because Lucifer’s face has fallen subtly as he’s been talking. “You okay, man?”</p><p>“Yes, of course, Daniel,” Lucifer shakes himself lightly, turning his attention briskly back to finding bowls for the popcorn and cheese puffs (so the crinkling of the bag doesn’t interrupt the movie, of course). “That sounds like a grand solution all around, the Urchin will be ecstatic to have both her parents around full-time again!”</p><p>“Both?” Dan’s eyebrows draw down in confusion before he realizes the assumption that Lucifer has made. “Oh, no, no, no—you’ve got that wrong, man. Chloe’s planning on staying here with <em>you</em>. We’re just waiting for Trixie to decide if she’s comfortable enough to stay with me through the week, or if I’ll just be coming to pick her up in the mornings to take her to school and picking her up after school until Chloe’s off work.”</p><p>Lucifer glances at Dan from the side of his eyes, not quite believing what he’s hearing.</p><p>“Chloe and I… we already <em>know</em> we don’t work well living under the same roof,” Dan gives him a wry smile. “And besides that, no way would she leave you here alone, at least while you’re still recovering.” A little of the tension leaves Lucifer’s face, though his mild expression doesn’t change. Dan remembers what Lucifer had said, before Michael had come storming in to make his attack. “Look, I can’t pretend to have the slightest idea what’s going on in your head, but… If you think you’re a temporary thing for her?  You’re wrong. She is <em>crazy</em> protective of you— The way she watched over you when you were… um, when you were dead? You’re <em>hers</em> now, and… I don’t see that changing.”</p><p>“Hers, am I?” Lucifer quirks a brow at the man before him, attempting a wicked grin. It works, but doesn’t reach his eyes.</p><p>“She told us about your… your link, she called it? She was a mess when you were gone, man. I think that link, being able to <em>feel</em> you even when you weren’t there—I think that’s the only thing that kept her from going over the edge.”</p><p>Furrows of concern appear on Lucifer’s forehead as he considers what Dan’s telling him. He opens his mouth to respond just as Trixie skips into the kitchen, lips smeared with chocolate and cream. Lucifer automatically hands the girl a napkin, and she grins as she wipes her face. “Are you guys coming?? The movie’s ready!”</p><p>“We were just waiting on the popcorn, Monkey,” Dan supplies, handing her a bowl. “We’ll be right there, we just gotta grab the drinks.”</p><p>Trixie grabs the bowl and trundles back into the sitting room. Lucifer moves to follow her, and Dan rests a careful hand on his elbow to stop him. “Look… I know you guys have had issues upon issues, but… I think you really care about each other, and I think you both deserve a chance to be <em>happy</em>. You’re not gonna manage that if you’re expecting her to run away every time something happens. Talk it out, let her prove herself, but—man, don’t let <em>whatever it is </em>get in the way of being together, if that’s what you want. I… I wish I’d had more time with Charlotte, and maybe I could have if I’d just decided to <em>be happy</em>, you know?”</p><p>“I’m not certain I know how to be happy, Daniel,” Lucifer replies softly, his eyes flitting toward the sitting room. “But I intend to try. I have a feeling that the Detective and your offspring may prove to be excellent tutors in that field.”</p><p>A wide grin splits Dan’s face, and Lucifer’s answering smile only gets wider as Trixie calls from the other room, “We’re starting the movie without you!”</p><p>“Then I won’t share my cheese puffs with you, Urchin!” They laugh and enter the room with snack-laden arms, ready to enjoy the evening.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. There's a Big Difference</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arael arrives back on the balcony at Lux in the morning, grim expression lightening as Trixie’s laughter echoes from inside the flat.</p><p>“Lucifer?” He calls tentatively, wondering if he’s interrupting anything.</p><p>“Arael!” Chloe greets him warmly, coming down the steps from the bedroom as she gives her ponytail a final tug to settle it in place. “You’re back already? Are you hungry? Lucifer and Trixie are making breakfast… or a mess.  Possibly both.”</p><p><em>“Probably</em> both,” Arael corrects, and they share a knowing grin.</p><p>“Come on, eat with us and we can catch up.” Chloe grabs his wrist and he lets himself be tugged gently toward the kitchen. “We’ve got company for breakfast, I hope you haven’t eaten everything already.”</p><p>“Brother!” Lucifer crows cheerfully, a dusting a flour splattered across his cheek like war paint. Arael’s eyes widen as he takes in the state of the kitchen, and Lucifer in particular. His hair is a dark mass of untamed curls and he’s traded in his normal black silk robe for a red terry one. He still holds his left shoulder and arm rigidly, but his color and energy level seem much closer to normal than yesterday. There is barely a horizontal surface in the kitchen not smudged with something.</p><p>“Welcome back, please, have a seat.” He gestures to the bar, which is somehow flour-free. “I made the mistake of turning my back on the Urchin here for a mere moment. We were going to make blueberry lemon muffins, but <em>someone</em> ate all the blueberries…” he slides his eyes in the direction of the purple-stained girl, who giggles unrepentantly. “So instead it’s pancakes for breakfast.”</p><p>Chloe watches the pair of them with an amused light dancing in her eyes and Arael can’t help laughing as well, watching his brother happily interacting with this carefree child. “You’d better hurry up, Trix, your dad’s gonna be up for breakfast and to take you to school soon.”</p><p>“Go clean up, Spawn,” Lucifer nudges her gently out of the kitchen. “All that’s left now is the cooking and I don’t quite trust you to flip pancakes yet.”</p><p>“Next time?” Trixie asks hopefully.</p><p>“Let’s see you flip a fried egg without breaking it first, hm?” He challenges. “Once you’ve got that, <em>then</em> we can consider pancakes.”</p><p>“Fiiiiiine,” Trixie groans, but she’s grinning as she heads for the guest room’s attached bathroom to get ready for school. Chloe reaches for a towel to start cleaning, but Lucifer gently shoos back to the bar, urging her to have a seat.</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous, Detective, I helped make the mess, I can certainly clean it up.” And true to his word, he has the kitchen neat as a pin by the time the stack of pancakes is complete. He brings the towering plate over and sets plates in front of Chloe and Arael, with extra settings for Trixie, Dan, and himself, then goes back to start some bacon. Trixie emerges from the guest room just in time for the bacon-laden plate to appear on the bar, dressed and clean except for a slight staining of purple on her lips.</p><p>Chloe helps herself to a couple of pancakes after forking a thick one onto Trixie’s plate, admonishing her to go easy on the syrup. Arael watches them curiously, then adds a pancake to his own plate. He hesitates when Chloe offers him the syrup, unsure.</p><p>“Try it with the syrup, brother, I think you’ll enjoy it.” Lucifer suggests, leaning between his brother and Chloe to deposit the bacon on the counter, then wiping the remnants of flour from his face. “Oh, bollocks, I’m going to need to wash, I think it’s stuck in my beard.”</p><p>Chloe glances up at him and giggles, nodding. “It definitely is, but you might as well eat before it gets cold. You can shower after.” He leans in and murmurs something in her ear, causing her to flush and gently nudge him with her elbow on his uninjured side. Trixie tears into her pancake after snatching a couple pieces of still-sizzling bacon, and the elevator chimes to announce Dan’s arrival.</p><p>“Come, Daniel, you’ve time for breakfast before you deliver the Urchin to her child prison,” Lucifer welcomes him, watching his brother suspiciously eyeing the pancake on his plate.</p><p>Dan eagerly forks a couple of pancakes onto his plate and lightly drizzles them with syrup, gingerly eating a couple slices of hot bacon as he waits for the syrup to saturate the fluffy discs of deliciousness. Lucifer takes the last 3 pancakes from the plate and loads them with syrup. He catches his brother’s eye and not-too-conspicuously picks up his butter knife and fork, cutting the pancakes into bite-size bits before spearing them and shoveling them neatly into his mouth. Arael looks a bit relieved, and carefully mimics his brother’s actions. His eyes widen with surprise as he takes his first bite, then close in pleasure as he chews. Lucifer grins, satisfied at the reaction. Lucifer decimates his plate without seeming to hurry, but manages to finish before anyone else before standing and clearing his plate away to the sink. He smirks at his brother, still slowly working his way through the nirvana of his first pancake, and wriggles his eyebrows at Chloe as he heads off to his bathroom to shower and dress for the day.</p><p>By the time he returns, dressed in a simple dark blue button down and black trousers—Chloe is still checking his wounds frequently, so a jacket is impractical at this point in time—Trixie and Dan have finished breakfast and are preparing to leave. Hugs all around, then the elevator doors are closing behind them as Trixie chatters about her upcoming day at school. Lucifer smirks at Arael, who is still a little shocked at being on the receiving end of a hug.</p><p>“Best get used to that, brother,” Lucifer warns. “Beatrice and Miss Lopez are <em>both</em> very fond of embraces, and I’ve learned there’s no avoiding or escaping them.”</p><p>“Hm.” Arael grunts thoughtfully, brushing his coppery curls back over his shoulder. “This pan cake confection is… very good, brother, thank you.”</p><p>“The word you’re looking for is ‘delicious’,” Lucifer teases. “Did you try the bacon? I think you’ll find that to your liking as well.”</p><p>“Is it sweet?” Arael asks, eyeing the sad scraps left on the plate.</p><p>“There’s an underlying sweetness to it, but it’s more savory,” Lucifer shakes the few remaining bits onto Arael’s plate and takes the platter over to the sink. Chloe watches Arael curiously.</p><p>“Have you never had human food, Arael?”</p><p>“I’ve needed to taste some of the plants I’ve worked with for various purposes,” Arael admits, picking up a piece of bacon and nibbling it suspiciously. “Oh… that is…”</p><p>“Really good,” Chloe nods, laughing. “You’ve got a load of new experiences in store for you, if you hang around here.”</p><p>“Oh, so many,” Lucifer chuckles. “I thought we might be able to visit the property I had in mind for you this morning, brother. And perhaps you’d like to fill us in on your Silver City visit during the trip?”</p><p>“That would be appreciated, Lucifer, thank you,” Arael’s eyes light up with enthusiasm. “I checked in with Amenadiel while you were dressing, he says Michael is quiet and he’s fine to remain on watch. He says he and Mazikeen have been trading off occasionally.”</p><p>“Yes, Maze gets bored easily, and I’m sure the rack is a temptation for her,” Lucifer muses. “The sooner Michael can be moved, the better for all of us. Shall we be off, then? I only need to grab my jacket. Are you coming with, Detective?”</p><p>Chloe has no intention of being left behind and tartly informs him so. She’s looking forward to getting out and about, seeing the property, and getting to know Arael a little better. Plus, she needs to keep an eye on her partner and make sure he doesn’t exhaust himself again.</p><p>Chloe drives (of course), and Lucifer navigates from the passenger seat. To Arael, position in the car is irrelevant, so he takes the backseat without complaint, resting his eyes occasionally on the linked hands resting on the console in front of him with a small smile.</p><p>“So by the time I left, Gabriel had a team of volunteers starting to seal the gates. He and I will be inspecting them before we bring Michael in, just to make sure nothing gets overlooked. I re-opened Adam’s old garden and re-planted some food plants there. We’re assuming that since Michael needs sustenance here now, he will in Heaven as well.”</p><p>“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” Lucifer muses. “Good thinking, Arael. It would be a bit of a shame to go to all this trouble just to have him starve to death. Left up here, Detective.”</p><p>Chloe obediently makes the turn onto a winding road littered sparsely with modest (for Lucifer’s taste, anyway) mansions. They’ve barely left the city, but they’re up in the hills enough that it feels secluded and distant from civilization. He directs her to turn into a drive, and provides the code for the gate. <em>This one has a gate… must be a fairly new acquisition.</em> She smiles to herself, making a mental note to ask Lucifer about his aversion to doors at some point. The gate closes behind them automatically, and Chloe takes in their surroundings as she follows the meandering drive up to the house. She can see how an angel with a history of gardening could be happy here: The landscaping involves a mixture of neatly manicured hedges to mark borders, but within them is a carefully managed chaos of greenery. The shade provides a pleasant break from the punishing heat of the sun, and she finds herself breathing in deeply, taking in the calming perfume of the gardens. There’s a heavy, not unpleasant scent of water in the air, so there must be a pond nearby, and Chloe mentally places a bet with herself on whether there will be swans. She watches Arael’s expression in the rearview mirror, and he appears pleased with what he’s seen so far.</p><p>She parks in front of the home, surprised at how… <em>humble</em> it looks. It reminds her a bit of a Hobbit home—it seems to be built into the side of the hill, and the entrance has a domed appearance to it. She smiles widely—<em>the door is even green!</em> She can hear running water, so there must be a fountain nearby, but the surrounding greenery effectively blocks the view of it. The front wall is primarily tinted windows that reflect the surrounding plants back to you, giving you the illusion of being enclosed in a forest. Chloe has a brief moment of claustrophobia, but a glance at Arael tells her that he feels perfectly comfortable here already. Lucifer’s swinging open the door, and gesturing them to come inside.</p><p>If Chloe had been expecting the warm darkness of a Hobbit-hole, she was pleasantly mistaken. Nearly the entire ceiling is made up of skylights, to make up for the lack of windows on the back and side walls, of which all but one are painted with outdoor scenes. The blank one appears to be intended as a projection screen, as Chloe notes the position of the furniture in the room. Arael glances at the blank wall curiously but doesn’t ask about it, simply moving into the room and gazing up at the open sky above. Lucifer takes them on a tour, each room equipped with simple but comfortably luxurious furniture. To top it all off, they tour the grounds, Arael excitedly wandering behind and ahead in fits and starts as he gets distracted by something, then charges ahead to another feature—much like Trixie at a street carnival. She’s slightly disappointed that there are no swans in the pond, but the gentle sound of the fountain follows them as they walk. Chloe and Lucifer amble slowly, enjoying this peaceful respite <em>together</em> as Arael explores the gardens. As they reach the greenhouse, Chloe gets a call from the precinct and she separates from the brothers to let them explore as they answer. She hears Arael’s excited exclamation from inside and smiles to herself as she accepts the call.</p><p>“Decker.”</p><p>“Detective Decker,” Lieutenant Masterson’s mild voice fills her ear, and she automatically stands a little straighter. “I wanted to update you on the Kinley and Rivas cases.”</p><p>“Yes, sir?” Her breath catches. She’s kept busy, but she’s eager to get back to work.</p><p>“Both of them are being extradited, Kinley to Italy to face charges from the Catholic church, and Rivas to El Salvador for gang activity. Their cases here are considered closed as of now since they’re out of our hands, and you’re cleared to return to work two days from now.”</p><p>“So, Thursday I can report back?” She fights to keep too much eagerness from her voice.</p><p>“Thursday, Decker, bright and early.” Masterson confirms cheerily. “How is your consultant healing up?”</p><p>“He, um… he had a little complication a week or so ago—” <em>Nothing major, just a little death, sir.</em> She fights down an only slightly hysterical giggle. “But he’s back on track now. I’d have to see if he’s fit for light duty.”</p><p>“Well, you won’t be on desk duty, you’ll be out in the field, so if he’s coming with you he’ll need to be medically released.”</p><p>“Of course,” Chloe agrees quickly. “I’ll make sure, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“See you soon, Decker. You’ve been missed around here.” She hears a knocking on the other end of the line. “Report to my office when you get in for reinstatement of your gun and badge.”</p><p>The call disconnects before she can respond, and she stands for a moment and lets the excitement wash over her. “Luc—” She whirls happily back toward the greenhouse, stopping mid-call when she spots him standing in the doorway to the greenhouse, regarding her fondly.</p><p>“Good news, Detective?” The midday sun glints in his mahogany eyes, and a wistful smile plays on his lips. “Back to work, hm?”</p><p>“Could you hear?” she deflates a little.</p><p>“No,” he chuckles lightly, “but only a phone call from work makes you that happy.”</p><p>“You make me happy too, you know,” she reaches him and lifts up on her toes to press a quick kiss to his lips.</p><p>“Do I?” He looks down at her, tilting his head curiously.</p><p>“Of <em>course</em> you do,” she wraps her arms gently around his waist, leaning into him. “Do you know how many friends I had before I met you?”</p><p>“Ah, no?”</p><p>“None. The entire precinct hated my guts, I had no one outside of work but Trixie, and Dan and I weren’t even getting along.” She rests her head against his right shoulder, rubbing his lower back under his jacket. “If not for your little scheme to get me to have some fun, I probably never would have even given Ella a chance, I never would have been friends Linda, or met Maze.”</p><p>“Oh now,” he scoffs, “Miss Lopez would not be denied for long, you know that.”</p><p>“We would have been work friends, not <em>tribe</em>.” She glances up into his confused eyes. “There’s a big difference, trust me on that. <em>You </em>gave me that, Lucifer, however indirectly. Not to mention… you.”</p><p>“Me?”</p><p>“Yes, <em>you</em>, Satan,” she teases, squeezing him close as she huffs a laugh. <em>“You</em> are my best friend, and so much more. I’m <em>happy</em> when you’re here with me.”</p><p>“I…” he trails off, seemingly lost for words at this unexpected turn in the conversation. He presses a light kiss to the crown of her head and the light in her chest gives a contented flare. “I’m happier here with you than I have been at any other point in my life, Detective, including my time in the Silver City.”</p><p>“Oh, Father,” comes Arael’s amused voice from behind Lucifer. “Amenadiel was right, you two <em>are</em> adorable.”</p><p>“I would threaten to leave you here, brother, but I know you’d only enjoy it.” Chloe can hear the smile in Lucifer’s voice, and neither of them break their embrace. <em>“And</em> probably beat us back to Lux.”</p><p>“It’s funny, because it’s true,” Arael comments to Chloe, and she snickers into Lucifer’s shoulder, giving him one more squeeze before reluctantly pulling away.</p><p>“So, from your level of enthusiasm, it seems like you feel like this is a good fit for you?” She asks lightly, and his grin only widens.</p><p>“I have so many plans for the plots in this glass house—” he starts to excitedly detail what plants he means to bring in, which plants in the outdoor gardens need attention… or replanting or grafting, or loads of other plant-based projects that neither Chloe nor Lucifer understand, but they let him natter on as they finish their tour of the grounds in amiable company.</p><p>“Well, you know where it is now,” Lucifer chuckles, handing him the keys. “You can start moving your equipment anytime you like. The property is yours for as long as you care to stay, Arael, I hope it feels like a home for you.”</p><p>By the time they make it back to the car, Lucifer only seems a little tired and Chloe takes heart in that, knowing that only yesterday he’d been too weak to walk from his elevator to the settee. Chloe sends a quick text to Ella letting her know she’ll be back at work on Thursday and receives a series of celebratory emojis in return, followed by an inquiry about how Arael liked the house. She responds with a thumbs-up, and Ella immediately starts asking about housewarming gifts. Chloe thinks for a moment and offers up a couple plant names that she remembers that Arael had mentioned placing in the greenhouse, much to Ella’s delight.</p><p>“All right, brother, we’ll see you back at Lux when you’re ready, then. Have fun moving your equipment. I’ll see about getting you a phone so you can communicate with me directly without having to go through Amenadiel, in case you need anything.”</p><p>“Eager to get started, hm?” Chloe asks him, smirking.</p><p>“The sooner my equipment is removed from the garden, the sooner we can get Michael instated there,” Arael points out seriously, and she nods.</p><p>“If I could get you a moving truck to get it done faster, I would.”  Lucifer laughs at her comment, but Arael only looks confused.</p><p>“I appreciate the thought, Chloe, but I think my siblings will be willing to help me.”</p><p>Chloe manages not to laugh at his confusion, but only just. <em>He’ll learn, and fast if Lucifer and Amenadiel are anything to judge by.</em> Arael unfurls his cream-striped russet wings and vanishes in a flash of feathers as Lucifer and Chloe climb in the car for their trip home.</p><p>*</p><p>Amenadiel is cleaning the wounds on Michael’s back when Raphael makes his visit.</p><p>“I can hear your brother moving around upstairs, Amenadiel. The Healing one.” Maze calls disinterestedly from the living room. “Should I go get him?”</p><p>“Luci can handle it,” he calls back, and Michael snorts at his use of the nickname. Amenadiel sends a quick prayer to Raphael, letting him know he’s downstairs if he needs something.</p><p>“He, Decker, and Arael went somewhere, something about a house.” Maze sounds bored. “I wasn’t really paying attention when he told me—oh, never mind, he’s down here now.”</p><p>“In here, Raphael,” Amenadiel calls, rolling his eyes at the demon. Raphael enters the room, pausing as Michael glares at him before crossing the room to look at the injuries. The glare is slightly more ominous than before, with the ugly scar now puckering across his face.</p><p>“They’re healing cleanly,” he observes, relieved. “You’re doing a good job with his care, Amenadiel.”</p><p>“Arael’s been doing most of it, we’ve been taking shifts, but mine have been sporadic, with the trips to the Silver City.” Amenadiel makes sure to give credit where it’s due. “Do you have news for us?”</p><p>“I do,” Raphael pulls a couple of jars from the pockets of his robes. “I also brought some new salves to apply. This one is for Michael. I’ll leave this one upstairs for Lucifer.”</p><p>“You’re treating <em>the fallen one</em> now, brother?” Michael sneers, speaking for the first time since his session with Linda yesterday. “I thought he was below your notice?”</p><p>“That’s precisely what I thought as well, Michael,” Raphael snaps, “And now I realize how I’ve let you manipulate me all these millennia, and I need to start making amends because I have no intention of falling as you have. I let <em>your lies</em> color my behavior so much that I nearly chose <em>not</em> to help Lucifer when he was in dire need of it… as it is, I barely provided the bare minimum to keep him alive during his poisoning. We both need to change, brother.”</p><p>Amenadiel stares at the Healer, shocked beyond words to hear such an admission pass his lips. Raphael clears his throat, pointedly not making eye contact with his eldest brother. “I was hoping to speak with Dr. Linda Martin regarding her ideas for psychotherapy for Michael, Amenadiel. She recommended he continue to see someone, but of course none of our siblings are familiar with… whatever it is he needs.”</p><p>“What I <em>need</em> is my powers back and my Command restored,” Michael grumbles, incensed at Raphael speaking as though he isn’t there. “What I <em>need</em> is for you all to realize that I did <em>what had to be done.</em>”</p><p>“Where did it start, Michael?” Amenadiel asks quietly, as he continues to wash and dress the still-weeping wounds where his wings used to be. “What made you decide to go after Lucifer?”</p><p>“You’re really going to pretend that you don’t <em>know</em>?” Michael barks a bitter laugh. “That he didn’t <em>deserve</em> every single temporary inconvenience I threw his way?”</p><p>“Let’s pretend that we don’t know,” Amenadiel probes carefully. “You can tell us what happened.”</p><p>“Who said anything happened?” Michael’s muscles tense involuntarily as Amenadiel reaches a particularly tender part of the wound on his right shoulder blade, and he gentles his touch. “It was enough that Father bent himself backward to grant little Samael his every wish and want.”</p><p>“So, because you think Lucifer was spoiled, he deserved to die?”</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous,” his hands clench into fists, but he doesn’t pull against the chains. “I wasn’t trying to kill him, not at first. I just wanted everyone to see him as he <em>really is</em>. No one can see past his ridiculous <em>charm</em> and <em>wit</em>. He’s lazy. Selfish. Reckless. Impulsive. He wields the truth as though it’s his own sword, but the truth is he manipulates it nearly as much as I do.”</p><p>“I’m afraid I don’t understand your reasoning yet, brother.” Amenadiel finishes cleansing the wounds, and Raphael silently hands him the jar of healing unguent he’d brought. “Nothing you’ve mentioned seems to be a reason to want to kill him.”</p><p>“We’re made of the same material, he and I,” Michael muses quietly after a moment. “I could choose to be as he was—charming, witty, <em>loved</em>.”</p><p>“Well, you certainly managed the recklessness and impulsiveness,” Raphael breaks in sharply, and Michael shoots a glare at him. “Get to the point, Michael.”</p><p>“I <em>could </em>choose to be as he was,” he repeats slowly, “But Father would always see him first. Would <em>always</em> turn to him before me. Still wouldn’t send him to do his tasks in Hell when he begged to stay. So I decided to show Father what his favorite son was really like.”</p><p>“Was the Garden the start of it?”</p><p>Michael snorts a humorless laugh. “Of course not, I’d passed myself as Samael hundreds of times before that. Sometimes I got caught out, but not enough to keep his shining reputation for getting <em>just </em>a little tarnished.”</p><p>“Was Lucifer actually doing any of the things you set up to take the fall for?” Amenadiel asks curiously.</p><p>“Pfft, of course not,” he shakes his head, disgusted. “He was too busy lazing about, mingling with Father’s new pets in the Gardens. So I started visiting the Gardens on occasion—<em>when my duties allowed me. </em>I didn’t have a lot of time, but I hid and watched the humans there. I don’t know why Samael was so fascinated, they did nothing but dig, eat, bathe, and rut.”</p><p>“So you decided to see what the fuss was about?”</p><p>“It wasn’t the initial plan, but when the female showed interest, I decided I could make it work. It would have worked out <em>better</em> if I hadn’t let myself get… distracted.”</p><p>“When Adam attacked you instead of Lucifer.”</p><p>“Yes,” Michael admits angrily, “I had to do some quick thinking after that. I didn’t think Father would believe me, but he didn’t argue with my story. Of course, he <em>also</em> didn’t punish Samael, except to send his little pets away. So I planted a few needles to make him uncomfortable: pricking at that righteous sense of <em>justice</em> he was always so proud of, the idea of <em>free will</em> for the host, how <em>unfair</em> it was to provide such a ‘gift’ to the humans but withhold it from his children. <em>That</em> finally worked. It took a long time, but I got what I wanted.”</p><p>“Lucifer gone?”</p><p>“Oh, not only that,” Michael’s smile is cold as ice, and both Raphael and Amenadiel fight shivers down their spines at the deranged <em>glee</em> in his face. “<em>I</em> got to be the one to send him. I was so tempted then, to kill him. But he didn’t feel guilty, he would have just bounced right back to Heaven, and I couldn’t have that. Couldn’t have him spreading his ‘truth’ around and making me look bad. So I thought of something else, and it was so <em>very</em> satisfying…”</p><p>“You knew he would burn?” Raphael’s aghast. “You <em>knew</em>?”</p><p>“Oh yes,” Michael hisses, and Amenadiel pulls his fingers away without finishing applying the salve. “Just a little research. The infernal plane feeds on divinity, did you know that? Nothing truly divine can flourish down there. It would have taken literal <em>ages</em> for his body to create enough divinity for him to heal completely. Ages, and ages…”</p><p>They glance at each other and leave the room without another word. Maze watches them exit, and nods, heading into the room to start her own shift at watching their prisoner. Amenadiel feels stirrings of nausea in his gut, but Raphael… Raphael is horrified that he had somehow overlooked this… this internal illness in one of his siblings. Two, if you count Uriel. He makes a mental note to start searching the libraries for information on celestial mental illness. He’s never seen any texts on it, but he’s <em>sure</em> his father must have something. <em>Could I have prevented this, if I’d seen it then? What could I have done differently?</em></p><p>Amenadiel leads his brother up to Lucifer’s penthouse, where they settle at the bar, each lost for a time in their own reactions to their brother’s depraved confession.</p><p>“I’ll talk to Linda, Raphael,” Amenadiel offers slowly. “See when she has some time to speak with you about Michael. You said you have news?”</p><p>“Yes,” Raphael replies faintly. He clears his throat and continues, “Yes. Um. Gabriel says the Gardens are nearly ready. Arael is working on getting his equipment removed, and the plants he didn’t trust Michael with as well. It should provide a good opportunity for him to go through his stores as well and make sure he doesn’t have anything else deadly hiding in there.”</p><p>“Well, I know <em>I’ll</em> certainly sleep better knowing Michael’s locked up and healing somewhere far away, after hearing that. What… what happened to him, brother?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Raphael admits reluctantly, “but I intend to find out.” The healer stands from his seat and strides to the balcony, unfurling his white-mottled, mouse-brown wings and taking off to start his research. As he lands in the library and furls his wings away, glancing down and gazing in horror at the two freckled feathers slowly drifting their way to the ground at his feet. Squaring his shoulders, he gets to work.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Oh, bollocks, I’m making it worse again, aren’t I?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe lets ten minutes of comfortable silence go by as they drive back to Lux before jokingly prodding, “You awake?”</p><p>“Oh, for—” he glances over at her, and a slow smile stretches across his face as she grins at him. “There really <em>is</em> no living that down, is there?”</p><p>“Nope,” she says cheerfully, and he huffs a laugh. “You’re quiet, though, and that usually means you’ve got something going on in your head. You want to talk about it?”</p><p>She keeps her eyes on the road, but can feel him regarding her as he considers. “You said I make you happy.”</p><p>“You do,” she confirms gently, nodding. “Granted, you <em>also</em> frustrate me and scare me to death regularly by getting injured or worse. But… you make me <em>better</em>, Lucifer. I’m a better me when I’m with you.”</p><p>He chuckles quietly, and she catches a sheen to his eyes before he looks out the passenger side window. “Dr. Linda said something yesterday during our session, and I’ve been trying to wrap my brain around it, because I’ve heard it from several sources now. But I can’t make it make <em>sense.</em>”</p><p>He’s got that indefinable sadness back in his voice now, that lost tone that makes her think of a shipwreck survivor who’s given up all hope of ever seeing shore again. “What doesn’t make sense?”</p><p>“Why you would choose me <em>back</em>. Any of you, but… but especially <em>you,</em> Detective.”</p><p>Her brow wrinkles as she tries to connect the dots to follow his line of thought. “I’m sorry, Lucifer, I’m not following. <em>What</em> doesn’t make sense?”</p><p>“That… you love me <em>too</em>.” She watches his muscles flex as his jaw clenches. “Linda said… I’ve chosen you—and Beatrice, Miss Lopez, and to some extent even Daniel as my family, but she said that I need to allow you to choose me in return. I just… <em>Why</em> would you? Why <em>have</em> you?”</p><p>“Because—” for a moment, Chloe reaches for an answer. “Because, you’re <em>you</em>.” He scoffs and she continues, taking her time in formulating her response. “I—<em>we—</em>know you. Because you bring me coffee every day, and you care enough to get the order just right. You care just as much about catching murderers as I do, and you <em>always</em> have my back when I need you. You spend hours enthusiastically discussing all sorts of nerdy things with Ella, and spend nights in with me and Trixie when you could be out doing <em>much</em> more interesting things. You bring snacks for the entire precinct and are completely surprised when someone does something kind for you in return. You help people anonymously and never say a word about it, and you get embarrassed every time someone brings up something good that you’ve done. You say you don’t do hugs, but you melt into them if someone hugs you long enough. You <em>care</em> about us so deeply, Lucifer, how could we <em>not</em>?”</p><p>“But my father,” he swallows before he continues. “My family. They <em>knew</em> me as well, and I cared for them so much. They, all of them, just… they literally <em>threw me away</em>, Detective. What could you possibly see that they could not?”</p><p>She wants to stop the car, wrap him in a hug and never let go, but she keeps driving. “I don’t know what your family saw, or didn’t see. I only know that I’ve seen <em>your heart</em>, Lucifer, and it’s a good one. More than deserving of being chosen—of being <em>loved</em>.”</p><p>“Detective,” the word is barely a sigh, and she’s suddenly back on that beach where she kissed him for the first time, after he’d listed all the reasons she deserved better than him. He reaches toward her and their hands meet, fingers interlacing and squeezing tightly.</p><p>“What else?” Chloe asks several miles of silence later. She sees his shoulders lift in a silent sigh, and shoots him a grin. “I know, but… communication, right? We’re not gonna get better at it until we really <em>do</em> it.” He mutters something about <em>doing other things</em> and she squeezes his hand, laughing. “Come on, Lucifer. What else is bothering you?”</p><p>“Isn’t there some kind of rule about taking turns? Shouldn’t <em>you</em> have to divulge something now?” He wheedles hopefully. She manages to avoid rolling her eyes, but only just.</p><p>“All right,” she says slowly, keeping her eyes on the road. “I was thinking about how much I’m <em>not</em> looking forward to going back to work without you there. How long do you think, before you’re healed enough to get medical clearance to come back?”</p><p>“I suppose it depends on how much of a stickler you are about medical clearance,” he muses, back to looking out the window. “I can call in a favor and get a medical release from a doctor. An injured devil is still likely to be better backup than a healthy human, is it not? These injuries don’t affect my reaction time, or my mojo, or my overall invulnerability.”</p><p>Chloe pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and chews it thoughtfully. It’s true that she’d rather have an injured Lucifer at her back than another officer, especially now that he’s no longer vulnerable around her, and Dan’s not an option… “I’ll let you decide, then,” she says eventually. “But you’ll have to be careful not to <em>appear</em> anything but fully healed.”</p><p>“Detective, please,” he scoffs, turning back to her with a raised brow. As she glances at him she sees a transformation. The injured shoulder that he’d been holding stiffly relaxes, the slight slump to accommodate the wound over his ribs disappears and a serene mask falls over his face, nearly erasing the lines of pain she’s unfortunately grown accustomed to. All outward signs of his discomfort have disappeared, and if she didn’t <em>know</em> the wounds were still there under the clothing, she would never suspect. “Do you know how many times I came into the precinct mere hours after cutting off my wings? No one once noticed any signs of pain from me.”</p><p>Chloe feels the blood drain from her face, but Lucifer is looking back out the window again and doesn’t see. She clears her throat lightly, and manages not to squeak when she speaks. She hadn’t realized how much trust he was showing her, in simply letting her <em>see</em> the evidence of the pain he was in versus his public façade. “You would… do that before <em>work?”</em></p><p>“But of course, Detective,” he confirms nonchalantly. “The bloody things had a habit of growing back while I slept, and I had no intention of keeping them any longer than I had to.”</p><p>“Lucifer…” She can’t think what to say to that, can’t even imagine the amount of pain he would have been in, all without her knowing. She hits the rumble strip on the road as she focuses on fighting back tears, and he turns back to her with a concerned expression. His walls slowly come back down and she sees again the more vulnerable devil before her.</p><p>“Oh, bollocks, I’m making it worse again, aren’t I?” She squeezes his hand when he starts to pull away, clearing her throat again.</p><p>“No,” she whispers, the repeats herself more firmly. “No, I’m… I want to know. I’m glad you told me, but… I’m sorry I didn’t believe you for so long. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”</p><p>“I wasn’t entirely alone at that point,” he points out obliviously. “Dr. Linda already knew by then, so I could talk about it with her, though she spent most of the time just trying to convince me <em>not</em> to cut them off again.”</p><p>“I know, and I’m glad you had someone you could talk to, I guess… I guess I’m just sorry that <em>I</em> wasn’t there for you.”</p><p>“Detective, of course you were there!” He exclaims, brow crinkling in consternation. “Granted, we weren’t as… close as we had been, what with Cain and all, but you <em>were there</em>, and you made nearly every day brighter.” He looks back out the window again. “But back to the subject at hand, if it’s my decision, as you say, then I’ll call in one of my favors when we get back to Lux and I’ll have my clearance ready to go for Thursday!”</p><p>“That sounds perfect,” Chloe’s voice only trembles a little, and he carefully doesn’t look at her. “Ella is going to be so excited.”</p><p>“She does love her Team Deckerstar, doesn’t she?” he chuckles, and her watery laugh echoes his. “Ooh, speaking of plausible portmanteaux… I haven’t been the only one picking up some slight AraElla vibes, have I?”</p><p>“AraElla?” Chloe starts laughing, and Lucifer grins proudly. “Really?”</p><p>“If she gets to name <em>us</em>, then <em>I</em> get to name <em>them</em>.” He dictates firmly, and she can’t deny him that. It’s a good fit, anyway.</p><p>“They <em>have</em> managed to hit it off,” she acknowledges, “but I’m not hopping on any bandwagons, or pushing Ella in any direction!” She’s already seen the chaos that can cause with Ella pushing her toward Pierce. Cain. <em>Whoever he was.</em> “And don’t think I don’t know that you’re trying to deflect me from asking what else is on your mind.”</p><p>“Can’t blame a devil for trying, Detective,” he sighs heavily. “I… have a concern, but I don’t want to present it the wrong way.”</p><p>“Okay,” she responds slowly, her mind starting to whirl through possibilities.</p><p>“Detective… Chloe,” he corrects himself. “I love you, and I will remain by your side as long as you wish me to be there.”</p><p>“I love you too, Lucifer, but… that’s not a concern.” She prompts when he doesn’t show any sign of continuing his thought.</p><p>“I… you had mentioned that Dad had told you that you could choose to be immortal, to stay here on Earth with me.” His tone is hesitant, and her concern spikes even more. “I just… should we discuss that? The decision is yours, of course, and I will accept your choice no matter <em>what</em>—but… Detective, have you thought about what it would mean for you?”</p><p>“I… don’t know?” She replies carefully. “I mean… your dad told me that as long as I chose to stay with you, that is what would happen. Do you—do you not want me to be immortal, to stay with you?”</p><p>“No!” he refutes instantly, squeezing her hand in his. “No, Detective, I will be delighted to have you with me for as long as you care to be! My… my concern is for you. You saw how immortality affected Cain. Losing everyone he ever let himself care about over and over again—it affected him, Detective. I would not wish that for you.”</p><p>“Oh,” Suddenly she understands what he’s trying to convey, and breathes a silent sigh of relief. “Lucifer, I won’t be <em>alone</em> like Cain was—I’ll have <em>you</em>. We’ll have each other, and… with my divinity—and a little boost from someone with <em>actual </em>wings” she nudges his elbow with hers, “we should be able to make visits to our friends in Heaven, right?  Once you have your banishment lifted?  That’s why you’re going through all this, isn’t it?”</p><p>“It <em>is</em>, but I could just as easily visit <em>you</em> in Heaven as well, and then you would be <em>there</em> with Beatrice and all your loved ones.”</p><p>“No,” she says abruptly and he stops to look at her, surprised at the outrage in her tone. “Would that be enough for you, visiting me occasionally?”</p><p>“Detective, it certainly beats the alternative of never seeing you again for all eternity—”</p><p>“Is that what you want?”</p><p>“What <em>I</em> want doesn’t matter—”</p><p>“The <em>hell </em>it doesn’t!” she bursts out, and their gazes meet angrily. “Your desires are <em>every bit</em> as important as mine in this relationship, Lucifer, so don’t you <em>dare</em> say that they don’t matter.”</p><p>“Chloe,” he says softly, his eyes dropping to their hands, still gripping one another tightly despite the anger in their words. “It’s <em>your</em> grief, <em>your</em> sanity that I’m concerned for. Of course, only <em>you</em> can make the decision, I merely want to make sure you consider all the angles of the situation before you make that choice.  You’ve got time—literally all the time in the world. I don’t… I don’t care what you decide, so long as <em>you</em> are happy.”</p><p>Chloe knows that her decision was made the moment God told her it was an option. The ability to not only stay beside Lucifer, but to never have to worry about leaving Trixie behind? There <em>was</em> no decision. She isn’t worried about Cain’s fate happening to her—she won’t be alone, and she should be able to visit her loved ones whenever she likes. But as they pull into Lux’s parking garage just past noon, she says only, “You’re right, we’ve got plenty of time.”</p><p><em>This</em> is how she can prove herself to him, her love, her loyalty. She can <em>choose</em> him, literally every day of her life. She feels the light in her chest blaze brightly, and Lucifer’s hand trembles in hers as he obviously feels an answering flare. His eyes remain on their joined hands until she releases him to put the car in park and turn off the ignition. They avoid each other’s eyes as they exit the car and head for the lift and when the doors close, Chloe turns to him.</p><p>“Lucifer, I will choose you every day. Always, okay?” She reaches to touch his arm when he doesn’t look at her, but then his lips are on hers and their hearts are beating wildly together as he pulls her into the warmth of his embrace. She laughs in relief and he wants to taste it, sweeping his tongue smoothly past her lips to dance with hers.</p><p>“You’re incredible,” he murmurs against her mouth when they pull back to breathe, chests heaving against each other.</p><p><em>“We</em> are,” she corrects, and presses him gently back against the wall of the carriage with a kiss as the chime announces their arrival at the penthouse. He makes a pleased little sound at the back of his throat as they stand locked in place for a long moment, exploring one another languidly before the sound of a clearing throat permeates their bubble.</p><p>“Well, I see you’re feeling better, Luci.”</p><p>*</p><p>Half an hour later, Chloe’s embarrassed blushes have cooled, and Amenadiel has filled them in on Michael’s most recent confession.</p><p>“Well, look at that, Detective,” Lucifer muses lightly, “Even Celestial murder comes down to jealousy, greed, and desire. We’re not so different after all, hm?”</p><p>“Lucifer,” Chloe fights not to roll her eyes at her partners nonchalance at <em>getting murdered</em>. “Please don’t joke about this—if what Michael is saying is true, his vendetta against you goes further back than his soul damage. If that’s the case… what if he doesn’t stop trying to come after you?”</p><p>“If he’s locked up in the Silver City’s very own Alcatraz, it’s not likely to make too much of a difference, is it?” he refills his tumbler, swirling it gently in his hand. “What would you have me <em>do</em>, Detective?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” She sighs in frustration, acknowledging that there doesn’t seem to be a <em>good</em> answer here so far. “We’ll have to keep thinking. And hope that he’s <em>less</em> deranged once he starts healing, I guess.”</p><p>“Raphael said the Garden gates should be sealed soon,” Amenadiel offers, and Lucifer tips his glass up to toast to that news. “Oh—he also brought this to treat your injuries with.”</p><p>Amenadiel pulls the jar of salve from his pocket and sets it on the bar. Lucifer picks it up and turns it in his hands. “He brought this for <em>me? </em>Specifically?” His tone is disbelieving.</p><p>“I think he’s trying to make up for the way he treated you when you were poisoned, Luci,” Amenadiel explains. “I really think he feels badly about it.”</p><p>“The way he <em>didn’t </em>treat me, you mean? Or he’s feeling the sting from the reminder that he overlooked the fact that our psychotic sibling was missing most of his soul for millennia,” Lucifer points out dryly.</p><p>“Or that,” Amenadiel agrees wryly. “That… might be more likely, but he <em>is</em> trying.”</p><p>“He is, I’ll give him that. He topped up my energy stores for me yesterday, or I’d still be lolling about barely able to stand.” He visibly perks up. “Oh! Which reminds me, I need to contact Dr. Fitzpatrick about that medical clearance!” He pulls out his phone and starts texting excitedly.</p><p>“Medical clearance?” Amenadiel glances at Chloe for an explanation.</p><p>“I’m going back to work on Thursday,” she supplies readily. “Lucifer wants to go back with me, but he needs medical clearance to go back in the field.”</p><p>“Is it wise to go back so soon, Luci?” he asks, concerned. “You’re still not—”</p><p>“It’s certainly better than letting the Detective go back without a partner at all,” Lucifer retorts shortly. “Daniel was sub-par, it’s true, but at least he took her safety seriously.”</p><p>“How is Dan doing? With everything, I mean?” Amenadiel settles onto one of the stools at the bar. “I haven’t had much of a chance to speak with him since we caught Michael.”</p><p>“He seems… okay,” Chloe offers hesitantly. “Still shaky, but he doesn’t seem like he’s about to try to hurt anyone again. I just hope he can find a job soon, that’ll give him something else to think about.”</p><p>“Excellent,” Lucifer purrs, and they both glance over at him. He pockets his phone with a satisfied smile. “Dr. Fitzpatrick will have my medical clearance e-mailed to the precinct within the hour. About Daniel—I’d been meaning to ask you, Detective— Do you think he’d be interested in heading up Lux’s security team? Maze hasn’t had much interest in it lately with her bounty hunting, and Daniel is clearly familiar enough with Lux that he knows its weak points, since he was able to weasel his way <em>past</em> security when he tried to kill me…”</p><p>“Lucifer, Dan <em>tried to kill you</em>, and you want to make him head of your security team?” Chloe’s expression is incredulous. “Are you crazy?”</p><p>“That was <em>weeks</em> ago, Detective, water under the bridge! What am I, human?” He scoffs. “Unless… do you think that would be too much proximity for all this celestial… stuff for him? It would be, wouldn’t it?”</p><p>“It… could work,” Amenadiel muses, after some thought. “Making the offer would show you have faith in him. I don’t know if he would accept it, but… I don’t think he has any designs on trying to harm you anymore, Luci.”</p><p>“Well, even if he doesn’t accept it, perhaps just knowing the offer is there will help relieve some of his burden?” Lucifer eyes Chloe worriedly and she smiles softly at him.</p><p>“Having something to fall back on if he can’t find anything on his own would definitely help, Lucifer, that’s a good thought. But… I’m a little anxious about having someone who tried to kill you in charge of your security.”</p><p>“Oh, come now Detective, it’s no different than having Maze backing me up when she’s betrayed me so many times. Or Amenadiel, really.” He adds as an afterthought. “No offense, brother.”</p><p>“None taken.”</p><p><em>Or me</em>, Chloe carefully doesn’t say aloud, but he reads it in her face.</p><p>“I’ve told you before,” he says gently, resignedly speaking his raw truth. “The commonality here is <em>me</em>.”</p><p>“No,” she argues vehemently. She flails for a moment until, finally, the words she’s been searching for flood into her mind. <em>“No</em>, Lucifer, it’s not <em>you</em>, it’s… it’s that distorted image of you that Michael created. The Prince of Lies, the Beast, the Adversary—those aren’t <em>you</em>, Lucifer, they’re what <em>Michael</em> wanted everyone to see when they looked at you!” She’s holding back tears of relief at finally, <em>belatedly</em> being able to put words to what she’s been feeling all along. “This story, these falsehoods that he’s planted, they’ve become so big, so… <em>pervasive</em> that even your siblings believed it! That even <em>I</em> believed it, despite knowing you like I do!”</p><p>“Mazikeen—”</p><p>“Maze’s issues are her <em>own</em>, Luci.” Amenadiel chimes in. “She’s struggling to learn to live among humans, just as we are, and you two are far too similar. She knows she can act out with you and she can predict how you’ll respond, so that makes you a safe target for her insecurities.”</p><p>“Ooooh, someone’s been listening to the good Doctor,” Lucifer taunts lightly, trying to deflect the uncomfortable closeness of the conversation.</p><p>“Well, one of us needs to,” Amenadiel teases back, and Lucifer gives him a small smile. “Chloe’s got a good point though, Luci. Charlotte accepted you right away, because you were <em>already helping her </em>try to avoid Hell before you showed her who you were. Once Dan actually went back and thought about his interactions with <em>you</em>, he couldn’t find anything that drove him to fear or hatred. Now that our siblings are learning the truth, they’re coming to your defense. And Chloe—”</p><p>“I learned the hard way,” she interrupts, “but I’m not going <em>anywhere</em>.”</p><p>Lucifer’s gaze turns inward as he considers their theory.</p><p><em>“It’s all true,”</em> Chloe had muttered as she beheld his face. <em>“It’s all true.”</em> In that moment, when <em>her</em> Lucifer and <em>the</em> Lucifer had fused into one and the same, he could understand how the bigger story, the more overwhelming truth would steamroll even the Detective’s formidable common sense into dust. Daniel… Daniel had hated him <em>before</em> he found out the truth, because of his perceived role in Charlotte’s death, but he hadn’t mentioned Charlotte when he’d come to deal out death—he’d said only that was <em>saving the world</em>. He feels a light pressure and glances down to see Chloe’s hand resting on his on the bartop. He flips his hand under hers so they can lace their fingers together.</p><p>“Maybe you’re right, Detective,” he murmurs quietly, and a smile breaks across her face like the dawning sun. The light of it warms him inside, and they’re lost for a time in one another’s eyes.</p><p>Amenadiel smiles to himself as he stands and heads back to the lower level to relieve Maze. He won’t be missed here.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Cats and Logs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arael sighs happily as his fingers thread into the soil, loosening it in preparation for planting. He’s <em>missed</em> this—his bond with all things green and growing—since he’s been otherwise occupied with helping his brothers. It’s been less than a week since he was pulled away from his own Gardens, but he’d felt the lack of that link. A frown flashes across his face as he wonders how Lucifer, with his connection to <em>light,</em> had survived so long in the dark ashy environs of Hell. Not only survived, but managed to maintain a tenuous grip on his deepest self. He shakes his head slowly. <em>Perhaps it has something to do with his being the Will… that much stubbornness </em>has<em> to be good for something.</em></p><p>He finishes with the last tray in the dormant greenhouse and stands, dusting his hands together to remove any remaining earth as he surveys his new domain. His tools and stores of extracts are all neatly and safely allocated to their proper places. He’d been astonished at how many volunteers he’d garnered to help him relocate his supplies to his new home; it seemed as though everyone was eager to help. He’d chosen a half-dozen of his more dependable siblings, and sent the disappointed remainder to Gabriel to see if they could be of help in preparing the Garden to hold Michael. He’d chosen enough sibling helpers that they had only needed to make one trip, and of course once they were here, they’d clamored for a tour. Arael realized too late that none of them had actually been to Earth since humanity had become pervasive, and resigned himself to guiding the tour of his new property while explaining what he could of the human dwelling, and admitting defeat for the things he couldn’t.</p><p>Once he’d managed to send them all away, he’d immediately immersed himself in the greenhouse, needing that soothing isolation to re-center himself. He surveys his work with anticipation, already planning the best areas for the plants he wants to cultivate. He glances up at the angle of the sun and calculates the time to be mid-afternoon. It’s been several hours since he’s been working here, which could be several weeks in the silver city, at least. Possibly months. He unfurls his chestnut wings, taking a moment to appreciate the way the cream barring seems to glow warmly in the bands of sunlight dappling through the palm fronds above before he crosses planes to the Silver City.</p><p>“Arael!” Gabriel cries as he lands next to the garden plot he’d started for Michael’s sustenance. “Your timing is perfect, brother, I was about to ask you when you would be available to make sure the enclosure is secure.”</p><p>“Now is good,” he comments dryly. “The sooner we can get Michael <em>here</em>, the sooner he can really start to heal.”</p><p>“Are his wings truly gone?” Gabriel asks quietly, as they start their inspection.</p><p>“They are,” Arael confirms grimly. “He lost them during the fight after he tried to kill Lucifer a second time.”</p><p>“I suppose it is a fitting retribution, after what he’s done, but…” A shudder runs through his burly frame, and he runs a hand through his neat sandy hair. “It doesn’t settle well, brother.”</p><p>“Lucifer’s have grown back,” Arael admits, much to Gabriel’s astonishment. “If Michael can fully heal and redeem himself, perhaps he can manage to get his back as well.”</p><p>They turn their full attention to their inspection now, making certain that the modifications are solid from the outside <em>and</em> the inside. Arael quickly stops to tend the garden, then does one more sweep to ensure that no dangerous plants or tools have been left behind. Even the little hut that had housed Adam and Eve has been furnished to give the fallen archangel some level of comfort. Arael makes a mental note to remind Raphael that he’ll need to make sure Michael is eating. According to Amenadiel, that is something that even angels need to do once they’ve fallen, they’re just not sure how much being in Heaven will affect his body’s need for food.</p><p>“All right,” Arael takes a deep breath and holds it for a moment before releasing it slowly. “Are we ready for this, brother?”</p><p>“Let’s bring Michael home,” Gabriel agrees grimly.</p><p>*</p><p>Arael returns to Lux later to report Michael’s successful, if sullen, transfer to the Garden.</p><p>“We’ve set some of the Grigori to keep a watch from a discrete distance for a while, just to be sure. Raphael is still looking into the personality issues Michael is dealing with. He asked if Linda would be willing to evaluate him in a few Earth days?”</p><p>“Poor Linda,” Lucifer sighs. “I’m sure she rues the day I first set foot in her office. I’ll text her and see about making ‘Celestial Mondays’ a thing for the foreseeable future.”</p><p>Chloe smirks, recalling their first visit to Linda’s practice, during the Delilah case. Chloe had thought she was insane, the way she’d acted with Lucifer. She knows better, now.</p><p>“I don’t like having that bastard anywhere near Linda,” Maze growls, “and I’m not keen on having him here with Eve, either.”</p><p>“With Eve?” Amenadiel parrots, perplexed. “He hasn’t shown the slightest interest in Eve, what’s the issue there?”</p><p>“He hasn’t,” Maze agrees reluctantly, “and I’m glad. She’s been nervous ever since he arrived, like, nervous to the point of asking me to train her on knives.”</p><p>“That’s… understandable,” Chloe realizes, once she’s thought about it for a moment. “Michael really violated her badly in the Garden, by pretending to be Lucifer. Having him nearby would make me anxious too, in that situation. Hell, having him nearby <em>does</em> make me anxious—he probably had a similar plan in mind for me.”</p><p>Now Lucifer growls, and Chloe can feel it as she’s leaning against him on the settee. She pats his knee, and he covers her hand with his.</p><p>“I’m gonna go home and tell Eve he’s gone.” Maze finishes her gin and stands from her stool. “I just wish he wasn’t coming <em>back</em>.”</p><p>“For now it seems safest to keep tabs on his mental state, Maze.” Amenadiel points out cautiously. “If he gets his powers back, it will be important to know if he’s still deranged or not, and Raphael isn’t confident enough in his studies on mental disorders yet to do any real evaluations. One of us will be in the room with Michael and Linda at all times.”</p><p>“A fat lot of good that will do if he gets his power of Command back!” Maze snarls, and Amenadiel’s eyes widen in alarm. “Yeah, didn’t think about <em>that</em>, did you?”</p><p>“I’m immune to Michael’s Command,” Lucifer volunteers. “It’s probably one reason he hates me so much, he could never force me to do anything. One of the perks of being made of the same material, I suppose… our powers don’t work on each other. I can make sure I’m within hearing distance for his sessions without him realizing it and if you prefer, Maze, you can as well.”</p><p>“Yeah,” she throws over her shoulder as she stalks toward the elevator. “Maybe I will.”</p><p>Chloe smiles to herself as the elevator doors close behind the demon. “She totally will.”</p><p>“Without a doubt,” Lucifer agrees, smirking. After a moment, though, his expression sobers. “Brothers—I can’t adequately express my gratitude for your extensive efforts in this situation. I’m… not sure how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”</p><p>Arael and Amenadiel glance at one another, surprised at the heartfelt thanks being offered.</p><p>“Luci, of <em>course</em> we were going to help.” Lucifer’s brow wrinkles at Amenadiel’s statement, but he doesn’t respond. “Did you really think we would just let Michael get away with murder?”</p><p>“Yes?” Lucifer admits, genuinely confused. “Or at least, I did… right up until I felt the Detective touch my cheek while I was in Limbo. That, and her grip on my hand allowed me to hope, a little. I had no reason to believe that anyone would care enough to come after me. No one ever did before.” Chloe looks up at him sharply and he blinks back at her. “All right, almost no one. Sorry, love.” Chloe grumbles against him and he pulls her closer, stifling a smile.</p><p>“Luci, now that the truth is known—”</p><p>“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it, brother?” Lucifer sighs, weary. “The truth hasn’t <em>changed</em>… it’s always been there. Just no one’s bothered to look at it, have they? Nothing has changed, from <em>my</em> perspective… so it’s probably going to take a bit of time to adjust to any pending changes.”</p><p>“That’s reasonable, Lucifer,” Arael breaks in before Amenadiel can argue further. “I’m sorry that <em>I</em> failed to look at the real story behind Michael’s lies…”</p><p>“You’ve already apologized, Arael,” Lucifer points out kindly, “And you’ve helped me several times in recent history, when you didn’t have to. Amenadiel has been willing to help with other situations, as well. It… is simply an adjustment that’s going to take some time—the idea that someone actually might <em>care</em> what happens to me.”</p><p>“Don’t worry,” Chloe murmurs into his shoulder, “we’ll keep reminding you.”</p><p>*</p><p>Maze returns to her apartment and finds Eve grappling with one of her patched and frayed practice dummies—the one still marked with Amenadiel’s facial hair.</p><p>“I thought you were working today?” Maze comments, after watching her technique for a moment.</p><p>“Oh!” Eve freezes mid-strike, and Maze crosses the room to correct her angle and aim. “Maze! I wasn’t expecting you. I was working, but there was a gas leak on the block, so everybody got shut down and told to leave until it’s repaired. Gwen said we’d re-open tomorrow.”</p><p>“When you’re attacking from this position, you want an upward strike, not straight in. Up and under on the right side, that’s a liver strike—bloody and deadly. Or here—” she gestures thoughtfully to the base of the throat where it meets the shoulder, “But that one requires a lot more strength than you’ve probably got right now. There’s an artery, but it’s protected by bone.”</p><p>“What about from behind?” Eve asks curiously.</p><p>“Easiest strike from behind is a kidney strike—here, and here,” Maze turns the dummy and shows the location. “Big veins there. I’d tell you to go for the throat, but you’re not experienced enough yet. They’ll see you coming from the front and get their hands on you, and if try from the rear, you’re not strong enough to reach around and slash yet, and they can bash your face with the back of their head. Right now, until you get some real skills, your best defense is probably going to be to hit the ground, then strike upward. We’ll start you on some drills.”</p><p>“Thanks Maze.” Eve wipes the sweat from her brow and goes to put her knives away. “I appreciate the lessons.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know.” Maze watches her carefully. “Michael’s gone, you know. They took him upstairs today.”</p><p>“Oh, really?” Eve replies casually. “That’s good, Lucifer should feel more comfortable with him gone.”</p><p>“And you.”</p><p>“Why would I care if Michael’s here or in Heaven?” Eve doesn’t look at her but moves to the sink, wetting a towel to wipe her face.</p><p>“Don’t even try that on me,” Maze snaps, frustrated. “I’m a demon, I can <em>smell</em> fear. I know he scares you.”</p><p>“But now he’s gone.” Eve’s voice is flat, and Maze narrows her eyes, trying to figure out what’s going on in her head. “So… problem solved, right?” Eve forces a laugh, and some of the tension in her shoulders loosens.</p><p>“You should talk to Linda,” Maze suggests, as gently as she knows how. “She’s better with this stuff than I am.”</p><p>“Maybe I will,” Eve allows. “Thank you for checking in with me, Maze, I know you care.”</p><p>Maze grumbles about that, and Eve laughs—a real one this time—and takes her hand. “C’mon, I want to show you what came in the mail today!”</p><p>*</p><p>The next couple of days pass without drama, for which Chloe is more grateful than she ever thought possible. Lucifer continues to heal, and Trixie makes her decision—surprising <em>both</em> her parents by agreeing to give living with Dan in Chloe’s apartment a try. Chloe suspects Lucifer’s involvement. He acknowledges that a conversation was had but vehemently denies that a deal was involved, so Chloe relaxes somewhat. Trixie agrees to start the trial after school on Thursday, when Chloe goes back to work, and give it until at least Monday if possible before she makes her final determination.</p><p>Thursday morning Chloe wakes in Lucifer’s bed to the tantalizing smell of coffee brewing. She cracks open an eye and sees that the bed next to her is empty, and cold. She hears voices wafting into the room, one of them Lucifer’s, and another Trixie’s—who else? She pulls the covers back and stumbles into the bathroom, counting on a shower to clear the fog of sleep from her mind.</p><p>Twenty minutes later she enters the kitchen clean and dressed for work, finding Trixie on the step-stool with Lucifer’s arms around her, both their hands wrapped around the handle of a frying pan.</p><p>“All right, Urchin, ready?” He’s asking, and the girl nods, a fierce look of concentration on her face as Lucifer’s hands guide the skillet movement into a smooth out-and-upward circular motion, resulting in a perfect mid-air flip of a pancake.</p><p><em>“We did it!”</em> Trixie shouts excitedly, and Lucifer shushes her before he notices Chloe leaning against the doorway, smiling quietly. “Mom!! Did you <em>see that!”</em></p><p>“I did Monkey, nice job.”</p><p>“Yes, well done Urchin, but now we mustn’t burn the other side.” Lucifer calls her attention back to the task at hand, and Trixie quickly returns to her project. Chloe watches them for another moment, the light in her chest humming happily. She crosses to the bar and sits next to Arael, who is watching the process with fascination.</p><p>“Enjoying the show?” She nudges his elbow with hers playfully.</p><p>“I haven’t seen Lucifer interact with younglings in a very long time, Chloe,” Arael says quietly, as Lucifer helps Trixie slide the golden-brown pancake onto a small stack next to the stove and prepare the skillet for the next one. “I had forgotten how very good he was with them.”</p><p>“I thought you angels were all created the way you are?”</p><p>“Oh, yes,” he tears his eyes away from the cooking to glance at Chloe, his wide blue-green eyes sparkling with humor. “But that doesn’t mean we weren’t young, once. Lucifer and Michael were among the first to be created, and many, many of us came after. Lucifer was one of the few that enjoyed spending time with the younger generations—teaching us, singing to us, or entertaining us.”</p><p>“He seemed completely clueless about Trixie when we first met him…” Chloe muses. “But she loved him right away. He did <em>always</em> treat her well… even if he had no idea what he was doing, he was never unkind.”</p><p>They both go back to watching the two at the stove bicker about how many chocolate chips should be in each pancake as they continue to add to the growing stack next to them.</p><p>“What brings you here this morning, Arael?” Chloe asks finally. “Adjusting to life on Earth well, I hope?”</p><p>“Yes, I’m enjoying my quarters very much. Lucifer said he had some cats and logs for me, so I came by to get them.”</p><p>“Cats and—” Chloe trails off, confused.</p><p>“Catalogs, brother,” Lucifer calls from across the kitchen, shaking his head. “They’re… like a menu for ordering plants and seeds and… and growy things.”</p><p>“That… makes much more sense.” Chloe manages not to laugh, it’s not Arael’s fault he doesn’t know about human things like that yet.</p><p>“I also have your new phone. I hope you don’t mind if I take some time before I join you at the precinct to teach him how to use it, Detective?”</p><p>“Word of advice,” Chloe turns to Arael very seriously, “Don’t let him teach you to text.”</p><p>“My use of emojis is both masterful <em>and</em> efficient, Detective.”</p><p>“Trust me, don’t let him.” She winks at Arael, who looks baffled, but nods his agreement.</p><p>Trixie proudly delivers a plateful of chocolate chip pancakes to Chloe’s effusive praise while Lucifer supplies the toppings. Everyone loads their plates and digs in, silence falling over the table except for the clink of silverware and little appreciative sounds of a meal well-enjoyed. Lucifer finishes first, as always and starts clearing away the extra dishes. Trixie finishes a close second, and is shooed off to get ready for school. Lucifer watches her go with a glint of mischief in his eyes.</p><p>“What are you thinking about?” Chloe asks suspiciously, swabbing her final piece in syrup before popping it into her mouth.</p><p>“Your Urchin is going to want to show off her new skills to her father,” he smirks, returning to the table to retrieve the rest of the materials.</p><p>“So what you’re saying is, you’ve just doomed my kitchen to being completely covered in pancake batter?”</p><p>“Possibly.” The corner of his mouth twitches, and Chloe manages to hold her fake glare as Arael glances between the two of them. “Oh really, Detective, Daniel has all day to clean it up, he hasn’t found a job yet, it will give him something to do other than brood.”</p><p>“Lucifer,” Chloe gives up the glare and Arael relaxes beside her as she starts laughing. The elevator chimes then, alerting them of Dan’s arrival to get Trixie for school. “Oh, that’s my cue, I’ve gotta get to work. I’ll text you if we get a case before you get to the precinct, okay?” She crosses the kitchen and kisses him softly, taking a moment to enjoy the lingering sweetness on his lips from breakfast. “I’ll see you soon.”</p><p>“Of course, Detective. Have fun in the meantime, you know Miss Lopez will be excited to see you.” He presses a travel mug of coffee made to her liking into her hands as she turns and calls for Trixie. The girl rushes back into the room, gives her mother a hug and launches herself at Lucifer, still at the sink.</p><p>“Yes, Spawn, have a good day. Enjoy your time with your father. Your lunch is in the fridge, and yes, I remembered the cupcake.” Trixie beams up at him, and Dan and Chloe exchange small smiles.</p><p>“Bye Lucifer, see you soon!”</p><p>Arael brings his now-empty plate to the counter just in time for Trixie to release Lucifer and latch onto his waist. Lucifer smirks at his brother, and very deliberately does not offer a rescue.</p><p>“C’mon Trix, time for school. Do you have everything?” Dan finally steps in to save the wild-looking angel from his 10-year-old daughter. He pulls her lunch from the refrigerator and Chloe walks with them to the elevator, leaving the brothers to their own devices.</p><p>“The catalogs are by the couch, brother, if you want to peruse those while I finish up here. Then we’ll have a crash course on how to use a mobile.”</p><p>“A mobile?”</p><p>“Yes, your phone. They call them all sorts of things, cell, cell phone, phone, mobile, device. Clever little contraptions, but they can be a bit delicate, so do try not to throw it, or squeeze it too hard, or drop it. <em>Especially</em> into water.”</p><p>Arael nods, and goes to browse the catalogs. He’s goggling at what humanity has managed to do with his designs when Lucifer joins him on the settee, a tiny box in his hands.</p><p>“All right, brother, I’ve preprogrammed the phone numbers for everyone you know into this, so if you have questions about anything you’ll only be a simple call or text away from an answer.”</p><p>“Everyone?”</p><p>“Well, everyone on Earth, anyway. Me, the Detective, Amenadiel, Daniel, Dr. Linda, Mazikeen, Eve, the Urchin, even Miss Lopez in case you have technical questions.”</p><p>“Amenadiel has one of these?” Arael tries to picture his brother managing one of these delicate devices, and fails.</p><p>“Well, he needed one to get in touch with me. And then he didn’t really have a choice, after he fell… I couldn’t pray to him anymore.”</p><p>“Why couldn’t he have prayed to you before? Come to think of it, why can’t we now?”</p><p>“I’m no longer Samael, brother,” Lucifer’s smile is wide and satisfied. “Prayers to him simply don’t come through. And I don’t know if it’s Father or Actualization in effect, but prayers to Lucifer or Satan have thankfully <em>never</em> come through. Dad knows I don’t want to hear what the misguided souls that choose to pray to Satan have to say.” His nose wrinkles as though his final words are bitter in his mouth, and Arael wonders what depravities Lucifer has had to see from those to claim to worship him… <em>Michael’s</em> version of him. He doesn’t ask.</p><p>An hour later, Arael can place a call, send a text, take a photo (and one accidental video of himself fumbling his way to turn OFF the video), and search something on Google. He had also insisted on downloading a game called Plants vs. Zombies that Ella had told him about, but Lucifer drew the line at teaching him how to play, insisting he could figure it out himself.</p><p>“Just remember, it’s water <em>resistant</em>, but too much water will still damage it, so keep it away from the pond, fountain, pool and shower, all right?”</p><p>“Right. Water is bad for the phone. Got it.” Arael manages to keep a straight face. “I’m sure I’ll learn quickly enough.”</p><p>“I have faith in you, brother,” Lucifer replies cheerfully, clapping him on the shoulder. “Take the catalogs and let me know what you want, I showed you the item numbers to note down. I’ll have someone place the order when you’re ready. In the meantime there are landscaping companies and garden shops around if you’re desperate for new plantings now.”</p><p>“I think I can wait,” Arael allows. “The outdoor plantings need tending, and that will be pleasant enough until I finalize my plans for the glass house. I still need to go through my stores, as well, and make sure there’s nothing else potentially dangerous in them.”</p><p>“Oh, yes.” Lucifer agrees readily. “Perhaps make that a priority, brother? I’m… really not very keen on a repeat of the poisoning debacle. Even though I’m no longer vulnerable around the Detective… I’d rather not push my luck.”</p><p>Arael nods solemnly. “Do you think she would try to harm you now?”</p><p>“No,” Lucifer responds quickly, lifting a hand as though to halt that thought in motion. “No, I don’t, but it wouldn’t be the first, or even the second or third time someone would try to kill me in her presence. We <em>do</em> spend most of our time together, you know.”</p><p>“Yes,” he smiles, “I’ve noticed the two of you are exceedingly close.”</p><p>“Well,” Lucifer clears his throat, trying to keep a smile off his face. “<em>This</em> particular level of closeness is still fairly new, but quite enjoyable… despite how it came about.”</p><p>“You seem… happy.”</p><p>“You know… Brother, I think we <em>are</em>.” There’s a certain amount of awe in Lucifer’s voice, and it warms Arael’s heart to hear it. “I know <em>I</em> am, and Chloe insists this is what she wants too, so… I <em>hope</em> she is.”</p><p>“She also seems happy, though admittedly I don’t know her well.”</p><p>“The Detective can be difficult to read,” Lucifer admits. “I have a great deal of trouble with it—though I’m not certain the fault is entirely mine, she <em>was</em> a quite good actress before she became a Detective, so she’s really very good at hiding what she’s thinking. Not at all like Miss Lopez.”</p><p>“Oh?” Arael asks casually, and Lucifer continues blandly.</p><p>“Oh yes, it’s usually quite easy to tell when something is going on with Miss Lopez… the trick there is prying it out of her. She’s one of Dad’s devotees, you know, doesn’t want to burden anyone else with her problems.” Lucifer considers a moment. “And yet, she is one of the brightest souls I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Even Azrael likes her.”</p><p>“Yes! How in Heaven did <em>that </em>come about?” Arael laughs. “When I saw them together at Dr. Martin’s home when we were looking for your body, they seemed very close, but I haven’t had the chance to ask.”</p><p>“Oh, I’ll have to let Azrael or Miss Lopez fill you in, brother,” Lucifer pulls his vibrating phone from his jacket pocket, wiggling it proudly. <em>“I</em> have a case to attend with my Detective!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. That Seems Excessive.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Did you <em>have</em> to bring the Aston?” Chloe asks him quietly. They’re in the parking garage at the precinct, and they’re totally surrounded by looky-loos. Every single male in the building—and a fair portion of the females— is out here surrounding the car, trying not to drool.</p><p>“You said you needed a classic car to get into the MME,” Lucifer reminds her, grinning. He’d been surprised at <em>his </em>warm welcome, but every comment about the car nearly makes him glow with happiness.</p><p>“The Corvette would have been fine!” She rolls her eyes, but brushes her arm briefly against his. It’s good to see him <em>happy</em>. Even if he <em>is</em> showing off.</p><p>“Nonsense, Detective!” He exclaims, wounded. “Corvettes are a dime a dozen. The Aston will leave <em>no</em> doubt that we belong there. Plus, it’s our first case back, I wanted it to be special. Careful, Martinez! Scratch it and I’ll see you in Hell.”</p><p>A low ripple of laughter rolls through the crowd around the car as the accident-prone Martinez carefully backs away. Chloe stifles her own laughter, and starts to wend her way through the gathered officers to get to the car. “C’mon, Lucifer, we’ve got to get there before that Tucker ’48 is claimed.”</p><p>“Not a problem, Detective, <em>this</em> car can go even faster than the Corvette—”</p><p><em>“Without</em> breaking any laws, Lucifer.”</p><p>He mumbles something about speed limits being guidelines for human reaction times, but doesn’t argue further, and he’s relaxed and smiling when he slides into the driver’s seat. As they drive to the venue, Chloe gives him the details from the crime scene that morning—a man had been drowned in his driveway with his own custom carwash equipment as he was detailing his own classic car. She looks over at one point and catches Lucifer watching her with a soft smile on his face.</p><p>“What?” She tries unsuccessfully to tuck her flying hair back behind her ears as she feels the weight of his gaze, suddenly self-conscious.</p><p>“I’ve <em>missed</em> this,” he admits candidly. “My detective droning on about the case, in total command of all the boring details. It is <em>very</em> nostalgic.”</p><p>Warmth blooms in her chest at him claiming her as <em>his Detective</em>, and she smiles back at him, reaching for his hand. “It’s good to be back at work, isn’t it?”</p><p>Ten minutes later they’re pulling into the valet line at the MME show. They’re barely out of the car before it starts drawing a crowd of admirers, and Lucifer warns the bored-looking valet to handle it carefully. Lucifer locates the Tucker ‘48 with ease and the scrawny buyer tries to make a dramatic dash for freedom. Lucifer catches him without even having to give chase and Chloe’s sure they’ve got their killer, until he admits to Lucifer that he simply didn’t want to go to jail for selling bogus vintage vehicles. He gives them a lead on a ‘scary dude’ that drives a green Geo Metro, though, so at least the adventure wasn’t a total loss.</p><p>Back at the precinct, they pinpoint their next potential suspect, only to arrive at his residence and find he’s become their second <em>victim</em>. They wait for CSI to come process the scene, and wind up back at the precinct yet again a few hours later.</p><p>“No way is this a coincidence,” Chloe begins, when Ella bursts in the door to the conference room they’re occupying.</p><p>“Found it!” She carols, grinning widely. “In fact, I think I <em>solved </em>it! Not very often I get to beat you guys to the answers!”</p><p>“Oh! Do tell us what you found, Miss Lopez,” Lucifer encourages cheerfully. She playfully slaps an open file down on the table in front of them.</p><p>“There's Derek, Sid. And recognize that third guy?”</p><p>“Yeah, one of the witnesses we talked to, at the first murder scene.” Chloe glances at the photo.</p><p>“Yeah. Marco Franklin. All three of them served in the Explosives Ordnance division in Iraq.” She grins at them, then flourishes dramatically. “But wait, there's more! Marco was just released from prison two days ago after serving a nine-year sentence for bank robbery. He bombed his way into the vault, got caught coming out and, drum roll, it is suspected he had two other accomplices, never apprehended.” She wriggles her eyebrows suggestively, letting them connect the dots.</p><p>“So Sid and Derek were his partners. He gets caught, they don't. Maybe they double-crossed him. So now he’s out…” Chloe trails off, thinking.</p><p>“Looking for revenge.”</p><p>“Yeah, call it whatever you want. I call it solved!” Ella sings. “Witnesses saw a man matching Marco's description attacking Sid in front of his apartment. <em>And </em>the striations on the shell casings found at the scene match Marco's 9 mm. <em>Man</em>, it is so nice having you two back again. I missed you! Can we go out tonight and celebrate after we’re done here??” She leans over them from behind and wraps an arm around each of their shoulders (making sure she gets Lucifer’s <em>good</em> shoulder), wrapping them in a group hug. Chloe laughs and pats Ella’s arm as she pulls away.</p><p>“Okay, but we’ve still gotta pick him up.”</p><p>“Nope!” Ella’s grin widens, and Lucifer lifts a brow at her “Unis are on their way to his address now. Nothing left to do but get our party on! Can we <em>please</em> go dancing? No. You know what, I’m not asking. <em>We are going</em> dancing. And I’m inviting <em>everybody</em>. We have a lot to celebrate. I’m gonna go home and change.”</p><p>*</p><p>It’s early in the evening and the club has been closed for nearly a week thanks to Michael, so the crowd at Lux is light. Lucifer exits the lift and surveys the club floor, grinning as he finds his friends gathered around two of the private booths. He shakes his head, marveling at Miss Lopez’s ability to convince people out of their shells. She’s managed to coerce attendance of nearly all the celestial insiders except for Eve and Maze, who weren’t answering their phones. Daniel is also missing, but he had preferred to spend tonight at Chloe’s apartment with only him and Beatrice. Lucifer’s eyebrows lift as he spots not only Amenadiel, but <em>Arael</em> seated in the booths below.</p><p>His brother’s eyes are wide as they constantly move about the club, taking in the lights, the music, the dancing and the liquor display. He’s been in the club before, of course, but never when it’s been open for business. He chuckles to himself as he notices Miss Lopez chatting away next to him, Arael nodding with each salient point she makes and occasionally responding eagerly to whatever she’s saying.</p><p>“What are you up here giggling to yourself about?” Chloe’s low voice reaches his ear just as her arm slides around his waist. He glances down and finds her leaning on the banister next to him, pressing close.</p><p>“Detective!” he cries delightedly. “I wasn’t sure you’d managed to free yourself from the dreadful boredom of paperwork yet. I was merely enjoying the view of our friends enjoying a night out. I see Dr. Linda didn’t make it.”</p><p>“Pregnant women aren’t supposed to have alcohol, Lucifer,” Chloe explains patiently. “It’s not good for the baby.”</p><p>“How very dull,” he remarks dryly. “We’ll have to arrange something fun once she’s free of the parasite, then, shall we?”</p><p>“Lucifer!” Chloe laughs, “Nursing moms shouldn’t really drink either, at least not without some, uh, preparation. So it might be awhile.”</p><p>“I suppose I believe you, but that seems excessive,” Lucifer grouses. His arm closes over her shoulders and he tugs her close. “She seems fairly happy with the situation, anyway, so I suppose that’s all that matters. Though I do feel somewhat sorry that she’s partially shackled to my dullard of a brother now. For the sake of the Spawn, of course. Still, I suppose it could be worse. Shall we go downstairs?”</p><p>She tips up on her toes and pulls his lips down to meet hers in a slow, gentle kiss. He makes a happy little noise of surprise and warmth paints her neck as his right hand comes up to thread his fingers into her loose hair. She’s just considering suggesting they go <em>up</em>stairs instead, when a deafeningly loud wolf-whistle sounds from the floor below. Chloe groans, and rests her face against Lucifer’s jacket. Lucifer smirks down at the club floor, where a grinning Ella sits next to a startled Arael, pulling her fingers from her mouth and motioning for them to <em>get down here!</em></p><p>“I think we’ve been summoned,” Chloe mumbles against his chest, and she feels his rumbling laugh under her cheek. His lips brush her hair and he hugs her close a moment longer as though he can hardly bear to let her go.</p><p>“Come on then, darling, let’s go ‘get our party on’, as Miss Lopez so charmingly put it.” His hand slides a warm path down her back, and he offers her a gentlemanly elbow to escort her down the stairs. Ella meets them at the foot of the curving stairwell, somehow having managed to squeeze past Arael to get out of the booth.</p><p>“Ohmygosh, you guys were just totally adorbs up there!” she gushes as she rushes to greet them. “Also, can I just say I am <em>loving</em> the Deckerstar PDA? First that crime scene, now the balcony? What’s next!? No—don’t tell me, I’d rather be surprised.”</p><p>“Ella, how much have you had to drink already?” Chloe asks once the smaller woman stops to pull in a breath.</p><p>“Not that much!” Ella protests. “I’m just… I’m really glad we could all get together and just have some—”</p><p><em>“Detective Decker!”</em> Marco Franklin stands at the top of the stairs, gun drawn and aimed at the trio at the foot of the stairs. Heads snap up at the shout and there’s a sudden flurry of screams and movement as people clear the area. “Everybody be cool! Don’t try anything!” The dark-haired man starts descending the staircase, left hand gripping the lapel of his jacket and holding it carefully. “Detective Decker, I need you to listen to me carefully.”</p><p>“You have <em>got</em> to be kidding me right now, Big Guy,” Chloe hears Ella mutter blurrily next to her. She doesn’t tear her eyes away from the armed man bearing down toward them.</p><p>“Well <em>you’ve</em> certainly got a way of killing a party, Mr. Franklin—” Lucifer begins, but Chloe cuts him off with a soft “Lucifer, don’t—”</p><p>She hears a soft sigh next to her and catches motion out of the corner of her left eye as Ella starts to slump to the floor. Marco, hyper-alert, swings the gun and fires. Screams erupt from the back of the club, then abruptly blur and drop in tone, as though a recording is being played back at a super-slow speed. The sounds all fade into the background as Lucifer lunges forward, grabbing the gunman’s wrist.</p><p>“Lucifer!” Chloe surges after him, but he waves her away with his free hand.</p><p>“I’m fine, check Miss Lopez!” His voice is eerily calm, but she doesn’t stop to question him. Chloe drops to her knees beside her friend, heart in her throat as she searches for a bullet wound. Ella’s deep red dress isn’t doing her any favors, but eventually her fingers come away wet with blood.</p><p><em>“Shit</em>,” she murmurs.</p><p>“She’s hit?” He clarifies, and they’re joined at the stairwell by Arael and Amenadiel. Chloe glances up briefly as she applies pressure to the wound and sees that Arael’s eyes are on Ella, while Amenadiel’s are wide and focused on Chloe.</p><p>“Yes,” Chloe hisses between gritted teeth. “She pulls her phone out of her pocket with the hand not applying pressure, but she can’t get a call to go through. “My phone’s not working, someone call 911.”</p><p>“Brother, will you take her?” Lucifer asks quietly, and she protests when she sees that he’s turned away from the gunman, who—isn’t moving?</p><p>“Of course, Luci.” Amenadiel bends and scoops the tiny scientist into his arms, and Chloe tries to keep pressure on the wound as he rises with her. “It’s okay, Chloe, she’s not bleeding much right now, I’ve slowed time. I’ll get her to the hospital.”</p><p>“You’ve—” her brain hits a wall and she runs out of words. “Right.”</p><p>“I will accompany you, brother,” Arael offers anxiously, and Amenadiel nods. They unfurl their wings and disappear, taking Ella with them.</p><p>Chloe goggles at Lucifer for a moment as he turns menacingly back toward their attacker.</p><p>“You’ll need to get everyone out of the club, please. The moment time starts back up. I’ll restrain this reprehensible reprobate while they evacuate.” He pries the gun from Marco’s frozen hand and crushes it, tossing it aside like a used candy wrapper. She starts to turn to be ready to address the club-goers, when she hears him gasp. “Detective… this man is wearing an explosive vest.”</p><p>“What!?” She whips around to face him again, but he’s already moving.</p><p>“I’ve got to get him out of here,” he wrestles what appears to be the detonator out of Marco’s immobile left hand, but doesn’t dare break the wire leading from it. “I’ll… I’ll take him to our beach, Detective. I’ll call for the bomb squad once we’re there, if the bastard doesn’t manage to detonate it first.”</p><p>“Lucifer, you’re wounded—”</p><p>“Well aware, Detective, but options are limited just now,” he says placatingly. “Amenadiel’s not going to last forever. I’ll call you when I can. Otherwise… look for me there.”</p><p>She opens her mouth, but he unfurls his gleaming wings and vanishes, taking the terrorist with him just as the screams start back up from the back of the club. <em>Guess Amenadiel ran out of juice.</em></p><p>“Okay everyone! I’m LAPD!” She calls in her best crowd-controlling voice. “Nobody panic, the shooter has been neutralized and is no longer a danger. The club is being evacuated, please exit in an orderly fashion.” The crowd slowly settles into silence and muffled grumbling as heads slowly start to appear over furniture and dividing walls. Chloe repeats herself calmly several times, asking for anyone that saw anything to please remain behind for questioning once they’ve exited the building. Not surprisingly, no one does. Once the club floor is empty, she calls dispatch. They haven’t had any reports of a shooting at Lux—also not surprising, with as quickly as Amenadiel froze time. She doesn’t call it in, she doesn’t even know if Marco is still alive.  If Lucifer—</p><p><em>No.</em> <em>He’s fine. Amenadiel said it would take a lot more than regular fire to… to hurt him. And he made it out of that cabin just fine.</em></p><p><em>Of course,</em> another voice argues, <em>he wasn’t injured then, or recovering from a recent </em>death.</p><p>She texts Amenadiel for an update on Ella then she can’t wait anymore, she tries to call Lucifer but it rings to voicemail.</p><p>It’s been twenty minutes. Too long. She takes the elevator to the garage and heads for their beach.</p><p>It’s well past sunset, and the beach is closed to the public when she arrives. She puts her police placard in the dash and bolts for the beach, hand on her service weapon and eyes and ears alert for any movement.</p><p>“Lucifer?” She calls tentatively, fighting not to scream his name, because she <em>knows</em> if he’s anywhere nearby, he’ll hear. “Lucifer!”</p><p>She walks the beach for what feels like hours, fighting tears and panic. Occasionally she attempts to distract herself by getting updates from Amenadiel. Since he’s not family, they’re not giving them much information to go on. Finally, he gives her some good news: The hospital let them in to see her, she’s awake and doing well, and will be able to go home tomorrow. She wishes she had some good news to share as well. She tells Amenadiel about the explosive vest and that Lucifer had taken Marco out of Lux to keep him from detonating it there… and that he’s now missing. A moment later her phone rings and she answers it without looking.</p><p>“Lucifer??”</p><p>“No, Chloe, it’s Amenadiel.” Chloe can hear a commotion in the background, what sounds like arguing in Spanish.</p><p>“Is everything okay there?” Her eyes continue to scan the beach hopefully as she talks.</p><p>“It’s fine, Ella is… she wants to come help us look for Luci.”</p><p>“Still buzzed, or is it the meds they gave her?”</p><p>“A bit of both, I think, plus something that’s uniquely Ella.” Chloe can’t disagree with that. She squints her eyes at the shadow breaking up the moonlight reflecting off the shoreline. <em>Is that driftwood?</em> Her feet start moving toward it without a conscious decision from her to do so. “Where are you? We’ll come help you look.”</p><p>“I’m at—ohmygod <em>Lucifer!” </em>Nerveless fingers drop the phone into the soft sand as she pelts toward the patch of hard-packed shoreline where her partner’s ragged, still form lies face-down, freshly spit out by the sea.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Didn't make it.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Lucifer?” She sobs again, dropping to her knees beside him on the wet, packed sand. His suit is soaked, tattered and scorched, and her fingers find charred skin as she brushes them tentatively over the back of his head. She grabs his shoulder and yanks him around so he’s laying on his back. Clumps of wet sand cling to the cavernous crags and runnels crossing his face, and her breath catches as he coughs weakly, water trickling from his mouth.</p><p>She hurriedly turns him back onto his side, firmly striking him between his shoulders and watching anxiously as still more water drains from him. She leans over him, murmuring endearments and pressing gentle kisses to his temple as he struggles to pull in rasping breaths. She doesn’t know if the salt she tastes is from her tears on her lips or the salt water on his skin. <em>I never thought I’d be so happy to see </em>this<em> face.</em></p><p>Because she does recognize it—these are not fresh burns, this is the same face she saw in the loft, then again briefly in the hospital. It holds no terror for her now, only an overwhelming relief to have him here with her. The waves continue to bubble up around them and she works to drag him further up on shore, but he’s too heavy to move far. She makes sure they get far enough that he’s in no danger of being washed back out to sea, his scarred head resting in her lap. She doesn’t know how long they rest there, his rattling, waterlogged breaths nearly eclipsed by the even wash of the waves around them. Her fingers trace the melted wax configurations of his face, regularly drifting down to reassure herself that his heart continues its steady pace.</p><p>“You can’t keep scaring me like this, Lucifer,” she murmurs, resting her forehead against his. Her eyes scan the rest of him for injuries, but all she can find are thin lines of watery blood on his shirt over his wounds from Michael. “Come on, you don’t want me to call Amenadiel to carry you back, do you? Please wake up. Ella’s doing fine, she’ll be released from the hospital tomorrow.” She keeps talking quietly to him, just a steady stream of whatever comes to mind.</p><p>“You know, the first time I found you on this beach, I had to track your phone because you weren’t picking up. I didn’t really come after you to wrap up the arrest report, you know.” She presses another upside-down kiss to his seared forehead, eyes closed as she lingers there. “I’d been really cold toward you the entire case because… because I was jealous. First the flight attendant, then <em>all</em> the others after that. I was jealous, and I was angry—mostly at myself for letting myself even <em>think</em> that you might be interested in me. But I took it out on you, and that hadn’t been fair. I wanted to make sure you were okay, because I knew it hadn’t been easy for you to hear those interviews. All those people that you’d… given the best night of their lives… and not one of them felt <em>anything</em> for you. That’s what struck me as I was reading back through them that afternoon at the precinct, and <em>that’s</em> why I came looking for you. I didn’t want you to be alone with those thoughts. And… and then you told me…” Her voice fades out and she stifles a sob.</p><p>“M’not worth it,” the grating words are barely more than an exhale between scarcely moving cracked lips. “Told you that.”</p><p>“Lucifer!” Her eyes snap open, and she finds his ravaged lids are cracked open, eyes glowing like coals. She gentles her voice when he flinches, “Lucifer, hey. Hi. There you are.”</p><p>“You’re upside-down.” He blinks slowly, as though trying to orient himself. “Z’evvrybody okay?”</p><p>“We’re good. Ella’s okay, she’s in the hospital, but she’ll be released tomorrow, I was just—oh. I was talking to Amenadiel, but I dropped my phone in the sand back there when I spotted you. Are you okay? Do you remember what happened?”</p><p>He thinks for a moment. “The vest. Tried to get into the water.”</p><p>“Marco detonated the vest?” His eyes flutter closed, a nearly imperceptible nod.</p><p>“Thought maybe it wouldn’t explode.” He sighs heavily. “Didn’t make it.”</p><p>She tries to follow his disjointed sentences. “You hoped the vest wouldn’t be able to explode if it got wet, so you tried landing in the water?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he breathes, his eyes slowly opening again. His head jerks feebly to the left side. “Hit my shoulder. Lost my grip, dropped him. Boom, then water.”</p><p>Ah. That explains why he’s only singed, not covered in gore except his own traces of blood.</p><p>“How badly were you burned?”</p><p>“M’fine, see?”</p><p>“Lucifer,” she pauses. “You’ve got your devil face on, you <em>look</em> burned all over.”                                                        </p><p>“I’m… <em>what?” </em>his eyes widen in horror and he weakly tries to pull away from her, but she wraps herself around his head and doesn’t let go, her hair forming a veil between them and the world.</p><p>“Hey, hey!” Her tone is sharp enough to cut through his feeble panic. “It’s fine, we’ll deal with that when you’re less scattered. As long as you’re not injured any more than you were earlier today?”</p><p>He’s quiet for a long time, too long for Chloe’s comfort. She pulls back so she can see him properly and her heart squeezes into her throat when she sees his eyes shut tightly, scrunched up in fear or disgust. “Lucifer. Are you hurt? Or did you just get knocked silly in the blast and waterlogged?”</p><p>“That,” he mutters. “I’m <em>fine</em>.”</p><p>She strokes his puckered face, pressing another kiss to his forehead and when she pulls away his eyes are open again, the light in them dimming back to his normal brown. He stares up at her incredulously and she grins back at him. “I told you, I <em>know</em> you. This face is only part of you, Lucifer, I’m not afraid.”</p><p>He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t look away, either. His burning eyes never leave hers as they continue to dim, slowly turning to black in the silvery moonlight. Patches of ridged reddened hide gradually give way to his normal smooth skin and complexion. The light of awareness brightens in his eyes, and he seems to pull out of his torpor.</p><p>“Detective, you <em>must</em> be cold. This water is bloody <em>freezing.”</em></p><p>She huffs a watery laugh into his damp hair, brushing her palms over his stubbled cheeks. “Do you think you can get up? If not, I need to go find my phone so I can call Amenadiel back.”</p><p>He grunts as he clumsily tries to sit up, and she supports him, bracing his shoulders from her seated position behind him. Once he’s sitting, his hand comes up to his shoulder, peeling back his soaked shirt to peek at the wound there.</p><p>“You okay?”</p><p>“The blighter opened the wound again, but… I think once it dries out it won’t be too much of a setback.” He groans as he moves to stand, and Chloe scrambles to her feet to be ready to support him. “I should be all right, Detective. It only… knocked the wind out of my wings for a bit. I’ll be right as rain before we make it to Lux.”</p><p>She watches him suspiciously, but aside from a slight unsteadiness to his gait, he appears to be true to his word. She finds her phone in a fortunately dry patch of sand and texts Amenadiel, Ella, and Arael that they’re on their way back to Lux. She chuckles at Ella’s immediate response.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>It’s about time! I was totally about to hack the GPS on your phone and send Amenadiel after you to help!! Is he okay??</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>He’s fine. A little unsteady, but he’s halfway back to the car now and doesn’t seem like he’s in danger of falling down.</em> </strong>
</p><ol>
<li><strong><em> Hey, can one of you guys come get me from the hospital tomorrow? </em></strong></li>
</ol><p>
  <strong> <em>Sure thing, just let us know when.</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Thanks. I’m gonna sleep now.</em> </strong>
</p><p>Chloe snorts, imagining Ella just passing out with phone still in hand. Her phone chimes again.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Thisisaraelshepassedout</em> </strong>
</p><p>Chloe stares at the message for a moment before her snort of amusement draws Lucifer’s attention from a few paces ahead. “What’s funny?”</p><p>“I’m just glad Arael took my advice and didn’t let you teach him to text.” She sends a response thanking him for watching over her, and pockets her phone.</p><p>“And how do you know that?”</p><p>“Two reasons.  He’s using words. And he hasn’t figured out the space bar.”</p><p>“Hm. Next lesson then.”</p><p>They make it back to the car and she pulls some blankets from the trunk to protect the seats from their wet clothing before he slowly collapses into the passenger seat. She crosses in front of the car and starts it, flicking the heater on high. The smell of the ocean fills the enclosed space, but she can’t find the energy to care.</p><p>“What did you tell the police?” Lucifer wonders aloud.</p><p>“None of your patrons had a chance to call them, so I didn’t report it. I… didn’t know what to say.”</p><p>“What will we tell them?”</p><p>“I don’t know, Lucifer.” She sighs, and he catches her hand. “I’ll see what your brothers told the hospital about Ella’s shooting tomorrow, and I suppose we’ll go from there.”</p><p>Lucifer dozes on the way home to Lux, and Chloe watches him from the corner of her eye as she drives.</p><p><em>“M’not worth it.”</em> He’d muttered on the beach.</p><p><em>Was he just repeating what he’d said that day, or does he still feel that way?</em> For a man with such an enormous ego, his sense of self-worth is distressingly low. She pulls into her reserved parking space in the Lux garage, but finds herself reluctant to wake the literal sleeping angel next to her. His breaths aren’t as raspy as they had been on the beach, but they’re definitely not the normal soft snuffles he usually makes when he naps. His wild hair and thick eyelashes are encrusted with salt and sand, and despite the raggedness, his beauty takes her breath away.</p><p>“I can feel you staring, Detective,” he murmurs quietly, a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth.</p><p>“No, you can’t.”</p><p>“All right, I can’t, but I <em>can</em> feel our link flaring.” His hands come up to rub his face, crackling the worst of the clinging salt from his lashes. “Is there a reason we’re sitting in the parking garage?”</p><p>“I didn’t want to wake you, and… I was thinking.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it.</p><p>“About?”</p><p>“You are, you know.”</p><p>“I am—okay? I’m afraid the only thing I am right now—aside from utterly exhausted and <em>filthy—</em>is lost. Would you like to elaborate on what you think I am?” He flashes her a teasing smile, which fades as he takes in her serious expression.</p><p>“You are <em>worth it</em>.” Her slate-blue eyes bore into his mahogany depths and he tilts his head, silently asking for further explanation. “On the beach, you told me that you’re not worth it. You were wrong. You are worth <em>everything</em> we’ve been through. Everything we <em>will</em> go through—if it means I get to have you in my life, to have you here with me—you’re more than worth it to me. We’re worth it, Lucifer.”</p><p>“We are,” He smiles, and the tenderness of his expression tugs at her heart. She relaxes a little, feeling the worry drain from her. “What I told you on the beach then was true, you deserve someone better. But… we’ve chosen each other now, Detective, and it’s only deepened my resolve to try to be worthy of you.”</p><p>“I want to be worthy of you too, Lucifer.” A slow smile blooms across her face and he finds himself captivated by her quiet beauty yet again. He pulls in a deep breath through his nose as their link thrums in his chest, and is jarred from his reverie by the sudden realization of just how badly he <em>stinks</em>.</p><p>“Darling, my apologies, but I really do need a shower. I <em>smell.</em>” The offended note in his voice makes her laugh, but she does have to agree that the smell is bad. The acrid scent of the bomb residue on his suit blends with the strong fishy salinity of the ocean water and in the confines of the car, it’s becoming overwhelming. Chloe pulls out the blankets that had protected the seats and cracks the windows open in a probably vain effort to let the car air out a bit.</p><p>Lucifer takes the blankets from her arms as they reach the elevator. The moment the lift doors open, he brushes a kiss to her temple and disappears into the depths of the flat. She hears the shower start up a few minutes later and without making the conscious decision she’s heading that way, stripping off her soaked, sandy clothing.</p><p>*</p><p>Link to explicit bonus chapter here: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27515281/chapters/70559826">https://archiveofourown.org/works/27515281/chapters/70559826</a></p><p>*</p><p>Their intimacy has been severely curtailed for the past week with the sheer amount of time their friends have surrounded them, and Lucifer’s recovery has made it necessary to take things slowly. They lay molded together, his chest pressed against her back, the warmth of his skin against her shoulders sustaining the euphoric connection of light flowing between them. This isn’t just desire, not <em>only</em> sex—the shower, their closeness now—<em>this</em> is about reconnection, exploration, reacquainting themselves with one another: bodies, minds, and souls.</p><p>“I missed you too, you know,” She murmurs, and a sleepy mumble emanates from where his face is buried in her neck. “I just didn’t have to miss you <em>as long</em>.”</p><p>“Mm,” he agrees languidly, his arms tightening around her waist and pulling her closer. “Not to worry, Detective, I can be as patient as I need to be, when <em>this</em> is my reward at the end of it.” He moves so his chin hooks over her shoulder, his stubbly cheek cradled against the side of her neck and she turns to brush a kiss against his temple.</p><p>“Let’s set a lower bar, hm?” She suggests lightly. “Near-death and/or resurrection is <em>not</em> necessary to get laid.”</p><p>“Isn’t it?” He feigns surprise, and they both chuckle. “Also, how dare you insinuate that sex with <em>you</em> is merely ‘getting laid’?”</p><p>“Well,” she pauses as the well-masked, but very real hurt in his voice filters through to her. “It’s certainly more than that for me. But for you—”</p><p>“Detective, I’ve never felt <em>anything</em> like the connection we share.” His voice is low and warm, and she feels as though it wraps her in the softest, warmest blanket in existence. “I don’t have words for what we have together, darling. You are… a vital part of me now. I don’t feel like <em>myself</em> when you’re missing from me.”</p><p>She nods, stroking his arms absently. “It’s like I said before, we’re better together. We make each other <em>want</em> to be better.”</p><p>“Perhaps that’s what humans mean when they talk about their ‘better half’,” he muses.</p><p>“Well, we <em>do</em> have the whole soulmates thing going on,” she teases, and he groans, turning his face into her neck and tickling her until she’s breathless. She turns in the circle of his embrace, and then they’re<em> both</em> breathless, for an entirely different reason, for quite a while after.</p><p>*</p><p>Early morning light cascades through the glass wall and floods across the rumpled golden sheets. It paints the lovers in contrasting tones of illumination and shadow. They’ve drifted a little apart in the night, but their faces remain only inches apart. Chloe wakes to the first vibrations of her alarm, and shuts it off before it can disturb Lucifer’s sleep.</p><p>She takes him in, this unguarded, restful Lucifer that she rarely gets to see, unburdened by nightmares or the weight of his lifetimes upon lifetimes of existence that would have easily crushed a lesser soul. She smiles to herself as the sun streams over him, backlighting him with an ironic halo. She lightly runs her fingers through his sun-warmed hair, then reluctantly turns away to start the day. She slides the cuffs of his oversize shirt up to her elbows as she readies their coffee and carefully returns to the bedroom. She sets his on his bedside table, along with his flask—she doesn’t even want to know how much whiskey his normal coffees actually contain—then takes her own mug and settles cross-legged on the bed to enjoy it.</p><p>Her phone vibrates again.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>They’re letting me go at 10. You can still come get me?</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>OMG Arael texted you from my phone after I passed out? THAT IS SO CUTE.</em> </strong>
</p><p>Chloe chuckles to herself at Ella’s rapid-fire change of subjects.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Yes, we’ll be there to get you. What did you tell the hospital about your injury?</em> </strong>
</p><p>The phone vibrates in her hand, an incoming call from Ella. She quickly swings her legs over the side of the mattress and darts out of the room, though she hears Lucifer start to stir behind her as she goes.</p><p>“Hey Ella, how are you feeling?” Chloe keeps her voice low.</p><p>“Like I got shot, strangely enough.” Her voice sounds pretty cheerful, regardless. More cheerful than Chloe had been after being shot. “It’s not too bad, though, just a little to the left and it would have only been a graze. Which reminds me, I gotta call the office and let ‘em know I won’t be in today. Oh! Hey! What happened with the gunman!?”</p><p>“Long story. Amenadiel slowed time and Lucifer got him subdued before he could get another shot off, then Amenadiel and Arael took you to the hospital. Lucifer realized the guy was wearing a suicide vest, and took off with him so he wouldn’t try to detonate it in the building.”</p><p>“That’s why you were looking for him.” Ella recalls. “Is he okay?”</p><p>“Yeah—but Marco isn’t.” Chloe bites her lip. “He detonated the vest. Lucifer tried to get them into the ocean before he set it off, hoping it would short it out, but he didn’t make it in time. Lucifer caught the edge of the blast, but then got waterlogged and wound up washing ashore unconscious with his devil face on.”</p><p>“Ohmigosh, did anyone see??” Ella’s voice is hushed “You’re sure he’s okay?”</p><p>“Yeah, he’s good, just took him a little while to come around. And no one else was around, so it was only me.”</p><p>“And… are <em>you </em>okay?”</p><p>“I’m not the one that got shot or blown up, Ella.” Chloe shakes her head, confused.</p><p>“Yeah…” She draws out the word carefully. “But last time you saw that face you kinda lost it and ran to Rome, ya know?”</p><p>“Oh,” Chloe breathes, flushing. “Right. No, Ella, I’m fine. It didn’t even phase me, it’s just… him.”</p><p>“Thank goodness,” a relieved sigh gusts into her ear from the phone. “Not that I thought you’d freak out again, Chloe, but… I gotta watch out for both of you, ya know?”</p><p>“I know, Ella,” she smiles, and turns to see Lucifer leaning in the doorway to his bedroom in his robe, smiling softly at her. “And we appreciate it.”</p><p>“Aww,” she coos. “But… you asked about what we told the hospital. Amenadiel told them that I was shot getting out of the car somewhere. They called the police and I gave a statement, but nobody said anything about Lux or you guys.”</p><p>Chloe breathes a sigh of relief. “Okay. Thanks, Ella. With Lucifer having to take Marco so quickly… I didn’t know how to explain it, so I didn’t call it in.”</p><p>“I got your back, sister.” She practically hear the wide grin on her friend’s face. “So I’ll see you in a few hours?”</p><p>“We’ll be there.” She disconnects the call as Lucifer’s warm arms surround her shoulders. “You heard all of it?”</p><p>“Mmmhm,” he hums against her shoulder as she leans back into him. “We never did find out what our trigger-happy friend wanted with you… other than to blow us all to purgatory, that is.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“Well, he came in saying that he wanted you to <em>listen</em> to him. I couldn’t get much out of him before he triggered his vest, something about a wife that had disappeared when he went to jail, she’d apparently planned the heist that he got arrested for.”</p><p>“Another accomplice that got away…” Chloe muses, sipping her coffee. “Well, that’s something to look into this morning while we’re waiting to pick up Ella. The striations on that bullet are obviously going to match Marco’s weapon, which is currently crushed on Lux’s floor, so we can’t turn <em>that </em>in for evidence.”</p><p>“Well, we <em>could</em>. But then we’d have to admit he was <em>here</em>, which could be problematic if bits of him start washing up on beaches.”</p><p>“Oh… do you think that’s likely?” She chews her lip, thinking.</p><p>“I’ve no idea. <em>I</em> managed to wash up… but I’m no forensic analyst… between carnivores and currents, I have no idea how much of him would even survive to wash up, let alone be recognizable. Perhaps we should only worry about that if it becomes a problem.”</p><p>“That’s fair. No sense borrowing trouble.” She notices his hands are empty. “Did you already drink your coffee?”</p><p>“Oh yes, thank you darling.” She feels his smile against her neck. “Very thoughtful of you.”</p><p>She takes another sip of her (still <em>very</em> hot) coffee and sets her phone down on the bar. “Come on, we’ve got just enough time for breakfast before work. Maybe we can find out something about Marco Franklin’s wife.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. DON'T BE LUCIFER.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The precinct is chaotic, and the pressure is on for Chloe and Lucifer. Forensics had pulled some strings to get the ballistics back on the bullet that shot Ella, and it was proven that the bullet came from Marco Franklin’s gun. Popular theory was that he knew Ella was smart enough to catch him, so he went after her personally, and Chloe and Lucifer do nothing to dissuade that theory. They assure their co-workers that Ella is doing well, and is being released from the hospital that morning, and they’re doing everything they can to make sure that justice prevails.</p><p>“It’s not a lie, Detective, I know exactly where he is, and while it may not be <em>human</em> justice… it is exactly what he deserves.” Lucifer smiles grimly, and Chloe echoes it. Marco chose his own path, after all.</p><p>The trail to Marco’s wife, however, isn’t as clear as she would like.</p><p>“So, Leona Franklin dropped off the face of the earth in 2014 after Marco got convicted. There are no records of her changing her name or entering any protection programs, nothing. It’s like she vanished.”</p><p>“Hm… 2014,” Lucifer muses slowly. “I think I might know who could have made that happen for her, Detective. Field trip?”</p><p>They find themselves in a shared office space, Chloe tailing Lucifer closely as he scans the room.</p><p>“Ah, here we are, Detective. Sergei, my friend, how’s business?” Lucifer’s tone is only friendly on the surface, and the man at the rearmost desk snaps his attention toward them, tensing as they approach. “I really wouldn’t consider running, my partner here is quite fast, and she rather enjoys a rough takedown. We only have some questions for you, about Leona Franklin.”</p><p>“Aw, c’mon Mr. Morningstar,” Sergei mutters. “I didn’t hurt anybody, all I did was help her get away from her psycho ex-husband.”</p><p>“Yes, well.” He sighs. “New information coming to light and all that, she may have some illegal acts to her name—whichever name that may be. Now, you’ll help us locate her, won’t you.”</p><p>It isn’t a question, and Sergei doesn’t argue. He pulls up a file on his computer and presses print. A copier across the room hums to life and Chloe eyes it.</p><p>“Lucifer—?”</p><p>“Yes, of course.” He crosses the room in that slightly-too-smooth prowling gait that makes people watch him nervously, returning with a warm copy of Leona Franklin’s new identity information.</p><p>“Thank you Sergei,” Lucifer chirps. “You’ll hear from me again if this information turns out to be in any way misleading. You know you can’t hide from me.”</p><p>“No, Mr. Morningstar, that’s accurate. Or at least it was, when I made it for her.” He watches them anxiously as they leave, then gathers his belongings and scuttles away.</p><p>They track down Leona, or Amy as she now calls herself, in a lovely suburban ranch home in West Hollywood.</p><p>“How did you even find me?” She glances around furtively before letting them inside. Her nervous tics set Chloe’s cop instincts on edge, and she takes comfort in the weight of her firearm at her hip.</p><p>“My partner has extensive connections, and we found Sergei.”</p><p>“Hm. You must be really good at your job.” Leona/Amy sits on her couch, picking at the sleeve of her oversize sweater. Chloe remains standing across from her, while Lucifer pokes interestedly around the room.</p><p>“She’s the <em>best there is</em>,” Lucifer declares proudly.</p><p>“Yeah, kinda,” Chloe prevaricates, and Lucifer snorts quietly to himself. “Listen, we talked to Marco, and he was—”</p><p>“You talked to Marco?” The agitated woman leaps to her feet and starts pacing. “How is he? Does he know where I am? I can’t go back to him, you don’t know what it was like. I have a life here now, a boyfriend—he doesn’t know anything about my past.  I don’t—I can’t face him again.” She’s doing a good job at pretending to be upset, but Chloe was an actress, and now she’s a cop with great instincts… which are telling her that Leona’s lying, and dangerous.</p><p>“Lucif—”</p><p>“And I don’t know what all he told you.” Leona whips toward Chloe as she pulls a handgun from under the hem of her bulky sweater. Her agitation disappears, replaced with stone cold indifference. “So I can’t take any chances.”</p><p>In less time than it takes Chloe to blink Lucifer is across the room and smoothly disarming her, throwing her to the ground and keeping her there with nothing more than a flash of glowing red eyes.</p><p>“I <em>really</em> don’t like it when people point guns at my partner,” he growls, and the sound nearly causes ripples in the air around him it’s so deep. Leona wisely doesn’t move except to curl into herself, whimpering in terror.</p><p>Chloe reaches her a heartbeat later, rolling the inert woman to place her in cuffs. “So you were involved in the robbery.”</p><p>Leona doesn’t answer until Lucifer growls again, and then a veritable torrent of words pours forth.</p><p>“I wasn't involved in the robbery, I <em>masterminded</em> it. That idiot and his army bros couldn't plan a trip to the beach. Then <em>he</em> has to go and get caught while the other two morons escaped, so <em>I</em> had to drop my life and run. Do you know what it’s like to have to start all over <em>from scratch?”</em> Chloe sees Lucifer’s eyes flare again, and Leona lapses into sudden silence. Chloe reads her rights, and they take her back to the precinct for charges to be filed.</p><p>*</p><p>Thanks to the excitement, they’re about 15 minutes late to pick up Ella. Lucifer had offered to drive (“I can get us there on time, Detective!” “Lucifer, <em>no</em>.”), but Chloe opted for sending her friend a text letting her know when to expect them instead.  It worked out rather nicely, since as usual the hospital was running a bit behind, and they dash into Ella’s room <em>just</em> as the nurse was finishing her discharge instructions.</p><p>“Sorry we’re late!” Chloe blurts, “Marco’s ex-wife pulled a gun on us and booking her took longer than usual, and—”</p><p>“Detective, perhaps poor Tamara here doesn’t need <em>all</em> the details, hm?” Lucifer intercedes. Chloe looks at the wide-eyed nurse and sure enough… it’s the same nurse that cared for both Lucifer <em>and</em> Chloe during their respective recent stays. “Though I assure you, Tamara, Miss Lopez is <em>still</em> the only reasonable one in our group, her getting shot was completely out of character.”</p><p>“Well,” the nurse hesitates. “They say bad luck comes in threes, so hopefully you guys won’t be back for quite a while now, all right? Take care of each other, and Ella, you call your doctor if that wound gives you any trouble.”</p><p>“Yes, ma’am!” Ella throws her a cheerful salute, then carefully gets up and comes to hug Chloe. Lucifer only slightly shifts in discomfort as she targets him next, but he does lean down to brush her cheek with his in an affectionate gesture that warms Chloe’s heart.</p><p>“I’m glad to see you’re still your cheery self. You know you don’t have to put on a front for us, yes?”</p><p>“Buddy, I’m just glad to be going <em>home</em>.” She gushes as they usher her toward the door. “If I had to spend another half hour in the bed listening to all the beeping, I would have gone <em>insane</em>.”</p><p>“Well, I do hope they’re at least providing you with some decent painkillers. I know that bullet wounds are rather painful.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s right! I heard you got caught in the crossfire during one of your cases back when you started working with the LAPD.”</p><p>For a moment, Chloe is back in that warehouse, seeing the reflective flash of Lucifer’s glowing eyes in the machinery surrounding them.</p><p>
  <em>“I’m bleeding.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t… I don’t bleed, it’s…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What’s happening to me?”</em>
</p><p>“Mm, yes, that one is memorable, but I’ve been a target a few other times as well, Miss Lopez, so for what it’s worth, you’ve got the sympathy of the Devil.” He smirks as she laughs gaily, both utterly oblivious to Chloe’s painful trip down memory lane.</p><p>
  <em>“I thought he killed you.” “Oh, he did. I got better.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Shoot me! Well, go on, then! What are you waiting for? Just shoot me right now. Please!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Pierce aiming his gun steadily at her, her finger pulling the trigger just a moment before his does.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>White wings surrounding them as choking, agonized screams fill the enclosed space, the rattle of automatic gunfire echoing from all around them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dan flailing his arms and the acrid scent of cordite as she feels the sharp punch to her gut, the flood of warmth…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Marco roaring her name, pointing the gun steadily at her before redirecting to Ella’s unexpected movement, the report echoing within the confines of the club.</em>
</p><p>“Detective?” Lucifer’s voice seems much further away than it should be. This hallway is too bright, the sounds too loud.</p><p>“Whoa, Chloe, you okay?” Ella suddenly materializes beside her, shaking her shoulder gently. “You’re looking a little pale, and that’s coming from someone who was shot yesterday.”</p><p>“Yeah,” she blurts breathlessly. She’s panting like she’s just sprinted through the entire hospital, and her eyes and mouth feel dry. “No, I’m okay, just had… a moment of <em>déjà vu </em>or something. I’m fine.”</p><p>
  <em>What on earth was that? Was it a panic attack? Flashbacks?</em>
</p><p>“Are you quite sure you’re okay, Detective?” Lucifer sounds closer now, though he hasn’t moved from her side since they left Ella’s room. “We’re already at the hospital, it shouldn’t be any trouble for them to check you out—”</p><p>“Lucifer, I’m <em>fine.”</em> She insists, and while he doesn’t press, he does watch her closely as they leave and refuses to let her drive.</p><p>“Miss Lopez is brave enough for my driving. Are we stopping for medications?”</p><p>One drive-thru pharmacy and one drive-thru lunch stop later, they arrive at Ella’s apartment.</p><p>“Are you okay to be on your own, Ella?” Chloe asks, concerned.</p><p><em>“I</em> am intending to go check on Margaret, take my meds, and <em>sleep</em>.” Her dark eyes sparkle with humor. “I’ve had these meds before, they work, but they knock me OUT.”</p><p>“We’ll stop by and check on you after work if you don’t answer your phone, okay?”</p><p>“Okay, Mom!” Ella teases. “Seriously though, thanks for the ride, and lunch!” She brandishes her take-out bag with a wide smile as she carefully exits the car and makes her way to her front door, watched anxiously by her friends.</p><p>Once she closes the door firmly behind her, Chloe turns to Lucifer and catches him watching her in concern.</p><p>“What?” she snaps defensively, and he recoils in surprise.</p><p>“I was… just…” he stammers, taken aback at her apparent hostility. <em>“Something</em> happened at the hospital, Detective.”</p><p>“I only got a little light-headed, Lucifer, I’m <em>fine.” </em>She glares at him until he looks away, focusing on reversing the car out of the parking space and they head back to the precinct in tense silence.</p><p>Chloe handles the paperwork to process Leona Franklin, and Lucifer retreats to the break room, where he eats a few more of the pudding cups that still have his name on them, and watches Chloe surreptitiously through the blinds. He mulls over the interaction in the car, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong. Clearly the Detective doesn’t want to tell him what it was, so he <em>should</em> be able to figure it out on his own.</p><p>She’d seemed fine this morning—had even made him coffee, and flirted with him over breakfast. They’d come to the precinct… visited Sergei and followed his lead to Leona.</p><p><em>Leona.</em> She’d pulled a gun on the Detective, and he’d flared his eyes at her. Used his King of Hell voice, even. <em>Shit.</em> He’d frightened her.</p><p>But… only last night she’d seen his full devil face again, and hadn’t seemed phased. Maybe because he’d been so weakened it hadn’t triggered a fear response? Perhaps seeing him disarming and intimidating Leona had triggered memories of Cain again…</p><p><em>Yes,</em> he decides, <em>that has to be it</em>. His shoulders hunch as he tries to consider what’s to be done. Obviously he’ll need to keep his distance to maintain her comfort level, and he’ll need to make sure he doesn’t lose his temper with suspects enough to make his eyes flash or allow any “otherness” to leak.  <em>I can do this. I just need to be less devilish.</em></p><p>He makes her a coffee and slowly approaches her desk, making sure to move slowly and make more noise than normal so she’s alerted to his arrival. He sets the cup at the edge of her desk without moving closer, and she looks up at him, puzzled.</p><p>“I was thinking,” he ventures hesitantly, keeping his voice soft, “is it really wise to leave Miss Lopez unattended after such an injury?”</p><p>“She said she was just going to be sleeping, Lucifer, I doubt she’d appreciate us there watching her and making noise.” Her tone still has an edge that Lucifer can easily hear, and he tries to make himself smaller without being obvious about it, shuffling back another half-step.</p><p>“Well, I thought… you’re going to be chasing dead-end leads on Marco today, yes? So, I’m not likely to be needed as your consultant to wheedle any information from sources, and if Miss Lopez <em>were</em> to need something—”</p><p>“You’re really worried about her, huh?” Chloe narrows her eyes at him, considering. He doesn’t respond, merely focuses his eyes on her fingers drumming on her desk. “All right, I can do without you today so you can go annoy Ella while she’s convalescing.”</p><p>There’s a smile in her voice, but Lucifer doesn’t lift his eyes to see it, afraid that might trigger another fear response. “Well, I thought I would go to Lux first and pick up the ‘Vette, then text her to see if she was still awake and wanted company.”</p><p>“So you’re heading back to Lux?” Now she sounds confused, and Lucifer’s mind’s eye paints for him the exact expression that crosses her face without him having to look at her. “Ooooh, I know what this is <em>really</em> about.”</p><p>“You do?” His eyes flicker up worriedly, before he remembers, <em>no eye contact, don’t scare her again!</em></p><p>“Mmhm,” she sounds smug, like she’s found a secret. “The new piano is being delivered today, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Yes!” He seizes on this gratefully, knowing he can make a call as soon as he’s no longer in her presence and make it a truth. “I haven’t played in a <em>very</em> long time, Detective.”</p><p>“Okay,” she chuckles. “Go meet your new baby, and check in with Ella. I’ll let you know when I’m headed back to Lux for the day, okay?”</p><p>“Detective, are you certain you want to come back to Lux?” He wishes he could watch her face, but he doesn’t dare. “You know I’m healing quite well, and it’s perfectly all right if you’d prefer to go back to your apartment instead, with your offspring.” <em>Where you feel safe</em>, he carefully doesn’t say.</p><p>“Of course I’m coming back to Lux,” she says sharply and he flinches back yet another half-step, managing to disguise it as moving out of the way of a passing uni escorting a suspect to an interrogation room.</p><p>“All right, Detective, as you desire,” <em>I don’t know how to make this easier for you, but I’m going to try.</em> “I’ll… see you later then.”</p><p>His eyes flick up to her face then quickly away as he turns and heads for the parking garage, where he can find some privacy to fly back to Lux. Chloe watches him go, confused and feeling like she’s just missed something. She starts to call him back to her, but he’s pulling out his phone and making a call as he climbs the stairs. She focuses on the warmth in her chest, thinking at it, <em>You’ll tell me if he’s thinking about doing something stupid, right?</em> She gets no response, but then, she didn’t truly expect one. After a moment, she shakes her head and sighs, going back to chasing leads that she <em>knows</em> will lead nowhere.</p><p>*</p><p>Ella responds to his text with a vague,</p><p><strong><em>Thanks for checking, sleepytime now</em></strong>.</p><p>He snorts softly at her response, and makes the call for his piano delivery. As one of the company’s best customers, he gets top-tier service without having to do more than give his name. They promise to have the new instrument to him by 1 o’clock, giving him about 2 hours to fill. He looks at his sadly empty liquor shelves and resigns himself to restocking it yet again after Michael’s little shattering spree. He spends the next three-quarters of an hour placing his orders—for alcohol <em>and</em> new decanters, since his prat of a twin hadn’t left a single one intact—then sets about trying to think of ways to make himself be less terrifying.</p><p>“Bollocks, I’m bad at this,” he glares at his list, which so far consists of things like: No glowing eyes, no devil face, no scaring suspects, no threatening voice.  He crosses it all out in frustration and sighs, writing in block letters: DON’T BE LUCIFER.</p><p>She’d told Miss Lopez just this morning that seeing his devil face hadn’t phased her, and it hadn’t felt like a lie. So what was different between seeing his full devil face when he was unconscious on the beach, and flaring his eyes and voice at someone who had been threatening her?</p><p>“Blast.” He mutters, pulling out his phone and texting Linda.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>How can I help Chloe not be afraid of me, Doctor?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>What happened?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>I don’t know?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>A few seconds later his phone rings.</p><p>“What happened, Lucifer?” He hears muffled crunching.</p><p>“Linda, you really shouldn’t be working on your lunch break, it’s a terrible habit I’ve been trying to talk the Detective out of for years—”</p><p>“Lucifer. What. Happened.”</p><p>“I don’t <em>know</em>, Doctor!” he cries, rather louder than he’d intended to, and he immediately gentles his tone. “I don’t know.”</p><p>“Does it have to do with Ella getting shot?”</p><p>“I don’t—maybe? More happened after Amenadiel left with Miss Lopez… the shooter was wearing an explosive vest and I had to get him out the club before he hurt people, so I took him out over the water, thinking perhaps if I got it wet it wouldn’t be able to explode, but he detonated it anyway—”</p><p>“Lucifer! You’re okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine, Doctor, but it knocked me a bit loopy and I washed up on the beach wearing my devil face. Chloe found me—” he hears a sharp intake of breath at the end of the line, but she doesn’t interrupt him. “and stayed with me ‘til I woke up. She… she didn’t seem afraid then, Doctor, she even kissed my face while it was still…” he trails off, confused.</p><p>“But now she’s afraid?”</p><p>“It’s the only thing that makes sense.” He huffs a sad sigh. “She was fine all last night and this morning until we went after the murderer’s ex-wife that had gone into hiding. That harridan pulled a gun on the Detective, and I think I scared her when I disarmed the woman. I… I used my voice, and let my eyes flash red.”</p><p>“What happened after that?” Linda probes a bit further.</p><p>“I got the woman to confess to <em>her</em> crimes, the Detective arrested her, and then we went to go get Miss Lopez from the hospital.”</p><p>“So she spent the rest of the morning with you after seeing your eyes and hearing your voice.”</p><p>“Yes, and she seemed okay, but at the hospital she… I don’t know what happened, Doctor, she froze, and started shaking. She went pale, and was panting, her eyes were dilated and it seemed like she had trouble hearing us for a moment, like she’d… gone away.”</p><p>“Hmm,” The familiar sound of Linda thinking clashes with more soft chewing sounds. “What happened then?”</p><p>“She said it was nothing when we asked, said she’d had <em>déjà vu, </em>and got a bit lightheaded, but she was <em>very</em> defensive about it, and drew away from me very obviously.” His fingers card through his hair, and he gets up to help himself to a drink from one of the bottles he’d brought up from Lux. “If she won’t talk to me about it… the only thing I can think of is that she’s too <em>frightened</em> to talk to me, but perhaps she… doesn’t want to admit she’s still afraid?  I’m at a loss, Doctor, I’ve been sitting here trying to make a list of ways to help her not be afraid, but… it’s come down to essentially <em>not being me.</em>”</p><p>“Lucifer—”</p><p>“And while I’m willing to try to not be me for her, Doctor… I… I know I can’t keep that up indefinitely and—” he swallows hard, “it would be a lie.”</p><p>“No,” Linda’s tone is sharp. “That’s not the answer, Lucifer. It’s entirely possible there’s something else going on, and you two need to talk about it together.”</p><p><em>“She won’t talk to me about it!”</em> he laments, and the pain in his voice nearly makes Linda’s heart bleed.</p><p>“Maybe she’s not <em>ready</em> to talk about it,” Linda suggests gently. “Give her time, Lucifer. Has she given you any indications she’s about to run again?”</p><p>“No,” he admits reluctantly. “She insisted on coming back to Lux after her shift ends, even though I offered to release her from that promise.”</p><p>“Good,” Linda very carefully doesn’t breathe a sigh of relief. “Just… give her some space for now, and try to have some faith in her to come to you when she’s ready.”</p><p>“And avoid frightening her in the meantime?”</p><p>A sigh manages to escape as she rolls her eyes to the ceiling. “And perhaps treat her gently until she’s ready to talk. You know you both can call or text me if you need me.”</p><p>“Thank you, Doctor. My apologies for interrupting your lunch.”</p><p>“What are friends for?”</p><p>“Are… are you actually asking me that question, Linda?  Because truly, that’s something that I would typically need to ask <em>you—”</em></p><p>“Good-bye, Lucifer,” Linda chuckles. “Call me if you need me.”</p><p>“Good day, Doctor.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Leave Me Alone, I'm Dangerously Unstable.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe spends the rest of her day as planned, following dead-end leads. <em>At least this time I know they’re dead ends going in.</em> That doesn’t stop her from doing her job, even though she knows that Marco is no longer a danger to anyone. She tries to focus on the task before her to avoid replaying the hurt, almost haunted look on Lucifer’s face when he’d come to her desk before he left for the day. He’d been acting strangely since their conversation in the car on the way back from Ella’s apartment and had been particularly twitchy just before he’d left, not even meeting her gaze.</p><p>He’d almost seemed <em>afraid</em> of her, and—dammit, she was doing it <em>again</em>. She drags herself back to her wild goose chase, only pausing a couple of times to check in with Ella, but she doesn’t receive a response to her texts. Once her shift is done, she shoots a text to Lucifer to check in.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Have you heard from Ella today? Do I need to check on her?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>I’ve just returned from her apartment, we had dinner and she seemed to be all right. </em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>OK, I’ll just head for Lux then.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>There’s really no need if there’s somewhere else you’d rather be, Detective. I’ll be playing some sets this evening, and likely won’t be upstairs ‘til late. </em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>I’ll be there in 30.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Very well. Enjoy your evening, there’s plenty upstairs to amuse you.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>She finds herself staring at his last message, trying to decipher any underlying message. Did he not want her to come see him while he’s in the club? Or did he just not want her to think he expected her to?</p><p>She arrives at Lux and finds Lucifer in the middle of a set. She stops on the landing above the club and leans against the railing, content to watch and listen. The song isn’t one she recognizes, it’s somehow completely appropriate for the club but also just a little sad, at least to Chloe’s ear. He segues directly into the next song without waiting for his audience to applaud, and Chloe notices that he’s keeping his focus on the instrument before him. Normally when Lucifer plays, he keeps one eye on his audience, either simply appreciating the beautiful people flocking around him or reading the crowd, Chloe’s never been able to tell. But he’s always managed to spot <em>her</em> in the crowd, even when she was trying to be inconspicuous. She’s certainly not trying now, standing at the railing like a queen about to address her people, but his eyes haven’t even drifted in her direction once. A tiny frown crosses her face, it’s another tiny detail out of place in a day that’s just felt <em>wrong</em> since they picked up Ella from the hospital.</p><p><em>Should I go down to say hello? </em>The longer he goes without looking up at her, the harder the decision becomes. He finishes his set while she’s deciding, and she hopes he’ll move toward her, but no. He stands from the bench and the crowd surges around him, offering praise and adoration. The lights go down and the music goes up and the dance floor comes to life. Many in the crowd attempt to lead Lucifer onto the dance floor but he declines, moving toward the bar instead. She watches him bob and weave through the crowd with uncanny grace and charm, and realizes she can’t go another moment without seeing his smile, without hearing his voice. She reaches the bar in time to find Lucifer standing close beside a tall redhead in a modest shimmering green dress, throwing his head back in full-throated laughter as the girl dissolves in giggles, laying her hand familiarly on his forearm. A coil of jealousy wraps itself tightly around her gut as Lucifer pats the hand twice before the girl pulls it away.</p><p>“No, truly Amily, you <em>need</em> to tell Doctor Linda that story. She’ll love it, I’m sure.” Lucifer is still chuckling as he takes a long pull from his glass. He still doesn’t look directly at her, but he does greet her. “Detective! I thought you’d be upstairs. Meet my friend Amily, she was an enormous help to me during a difficult time a couple of years ago. Amily, this is my Detective, Chloe Decker.”</p><p>The hot jealousy wrapped around her gut gives a small sniff and relaxes its hold at his affectionate greeting and introduction, but the cold feeling of concern moves back in when he doesn’t make eye contact with her, or even look directly at her, but at a point just slightly over her left shoulder.</p><p>“Nice to meet you, Amily,” Chloe steps over to Lucifer until their elbows brush, using the crowd around the bar as her excuse to sidle in closer. “I just wanted to stop in and say hi, I caught the last few songs of your set, but I missed you this afternoon.”</p><p>His arm twitches as though he wants to stretch it around her waist but he apparently thinks better of it, adjusting his suit jacket instead.</p><p>“Yes, it’s been a busy day, between settling the new piano and checking on Miss Lopez, I hardly had time to really practice my set. I sorely needed the practice, but I managed to muddle through the first set well enough.”</p><p>Amily snorts into her drink. “Oh, please, Lucifer, you know that instrument better than I knew the material for the EPPP.”</p><p>“The EPPP?” Chloe asks, lost.</p><p>“The Examination for Professional Practice in Psychology,” Lucifer supplies proudly. “Amily’s just passed it, and once she passes the California Psychology Law and Ethics Examination she’ll be ready to start practicing.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, just that one little hurdle,” Amily laughs. “Tonight I’m celebrating completing the first test, I’ll start studying again for the other tomorrow. Lucifer introduced me to Dr. Martin, I don’t know how I would have been able to manage without her through school.”</p><p>“I think you would have done all right, but I’m glad you two hit it off so well,” He smiles warmly at the girl and finishes his drink. “Well, I’m nearly due for my next set. You ladies enjoy your evening, Patrick knows neither of you pay this evening. Amily, good luck on your next exam. Detective, goodnight darling, I’m sure you’ll be asleep by the time I make it upstairs.”</p><p>“Thanks again, Lucifer!” Amily calls after him before turning to Chloe with a wide, friendly smile. “So <em>you’re</em> the Detective! If you’re staying here with him, then it sounds like you two have managed to make some progress since the last time I spoke with him, congratulations!”</p><p>“Um, thanks. It’s… still pretty new, but we’re working on it.” Chloe sips the whiskey Patrick drops in front of her as she watches Lucifer crossing the club floor, pausing to speak with patrons here and there, occasionally being pulled into a dance for a few moves before he breaks away and continues making his rounds.</p><p>“Ah, I thought you guys seemed a little tense.” Amily takes another drink of her bright green drink, then flushes as she realizes what she’s just said. “I am so sorry. All this studying is really getting to me, I analyze <em>everyone</em>. It’s nothing personal, I swear I wasn’t prying.”</p><p>“No, it’s okay,” Chloe chuckles a little. “Linda is a friend of mine, I’m… kinda used to it by now. It sounds like you already know a little about me… How did you and Lucifer meet?”</p><p>“I met him here, I was drowning my sorrows from a class I was tanking, trying to decide if I was just wasting time and money getting a degree in psychology when I <em>clearly</em> was no good at it when I saw this absolute train wreck down at the other end of the bar, giving off the most obvious ‘leave me alone, I’m dangerously unstable’ vibes I’ve <em>ever </em>felt. But he also just looked desperately alone, like, I was really afraid for him. So I went over to talk. After we talked for a while, he said he’d just lost his brother, and his psychiatrist couldn’t see him, and he was trying to get blitzed so he didn’t have to deal with it, but he couldn’t. I’d seen him drop the level in his bottle by <em>a lot</em>, and I was amazed at how sober he was, even though he smelled like a distillery.”</p><p>Chloe’s heart sinks as she listens carefully to Amily’s story. She met him after Uriel, then. Why hadn’t Linda been able to see him, if he was in such dire straits? Why hadn’t he come to <em>her</em>?</p><p>Then, like a meteor, it hits her. After Uriel. The sniper case.</p><p><em>“I was standing right here, fair game. Why didn’t you do it?” “How do you know what I deserve?” “You don’t know a </em>thing<em> about who I am, Detective, or what I’ve done.” “You </em>can’t<em> understand, Detective. And you never will.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“If you won’t talk to me, then please… talk to someone else. You have a therapist. Talk to her, before it eats you alive.”</em>
</p><p>Linda said after she found out, she shut down for weeks, locked herself in her office until Maze pried her out. He <em>must</em> have gone to Linda with this, and… something happened, that he’d revealed himself to her. Linda shut him out. Chloe hadn’t believed him. Who else did he have? His mother and his brother, who were both working to manipulate him into going back to Heaven with them? She blinks back tears, but Amily notices.</p><p>“Oh, hey, I’m sorry.” She stammers quietly, “I wasn’t trying to—”</p><p>“No,” Chloe interrupts her, swallowing hard. “I’m so glad you <em>saw</em> him, and decided to do something rather than just ignore him. If he says you helped him, then you really did. <em>Thank you</em> for being there for him when I couldn’t be.” She injects as much sincere gratitude into her tone as she can, and Amily smiles happily.</p><p>“You <em>do</em> love him.” Her smile turns into a grin. <em>“Good.</em> I knew he was really gone for you after talking with him for a few hours, but it makes me so happy to know that you love him too. He seems like he needs it.”</p><p>“We both do,” Chloe finishes her drink and finds him again, just reaching his piano. “I’m gonna go listen from the landing, then head up for the night. Congrats on passing your exam, and good luck on the next one!”</p><p>“Thanks Detective Decker. Be good to him, okay? I know it can’t be easy, but… he seems like he’s worth it.” She nods toward the piano.</p><p>“We’ve had that conversation recently,” Chloe smiles at the younger woman. “And I assured him that he <em>is</em> worth it.”</p><p>Amily holds up her drink in a toast, and turns back to the bar to request a refill as Chloe heads for the curving staircase to listen to Lucifer’s second set of the night.</p><p>*</p><p>Lucifer’s second set is every bit as engrossing as the first, not only for Chloe, but the rest of the club as well. Lucifer shines in the spotlight, and when his voice swells to fill the club, people barely breathe, let alone speak. He still doesn’t look at her, and that lead weight in her stomach gets heavier. She vows to wait for him, to be awake when he retreats to his penthouse from the masses.</p><p>The lift chimes gently and releases her into the flat, which always seems hauntingly empty when Lucifer’s not in it. She shrugs off unpleasant memories of the echoing stillness when he’d run away to Vegas after her poisoning, and that same ringing silence when he’d left on her birthday last year. She reminds herself that he’s only a dozen floors below, hosting the night at his club. She rummages in the fridge, pulling out some leftovers and takes them to the bar without bothering to warm them up. She spies a rumpled piece of paper on the floor, out of place in the otherwise tidy dwelling, so she picks it up and smooths it out. Lucifer’s writing, though messier than she’s seen it before, less ornate. Just for his own reading, then. It’s a list.</p><p>-no glowing eyes/ eye contact (threat)</p><p>-no moving too fast or quietly (make noise)</p><p>-keep distance/ don’t initiate touch (safety)</p><p>-no devil face</p><p>-no scaring suspects</p><p>-no threatening voice</p><p>These are all crossed out with a large, agitated X, and scrawled below is a ragged DON’T BE LUCIFER!</p><p><em>What is this?</em> She reads it over again. Had he frightened someone?  Ella, maybe? She pulls out her phone again, she still hasn’t gotten a response from her earlier queries.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Hey. Just checking in- you feeling okay?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Hey! Yeah, just woke up sorry</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Did something happen earlier? With Lucifer?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Yeah, dude brought me an AWESOME dinner, and we hung out this afternoon. He must’ve left when I passed out after my meds.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Chloe, he made sure I had my meds and a bottle of water right beside me for when I woke up, he is the SWEETEST THING EVER.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Chloe smiles at Ella’s observation, but looks back at the list and frowns again.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Nothing happened though, you’re okay?  Not afraid of him?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Def not afraid. Why?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Not sure, he’s acting… off. I’ll talk to him. Just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ll check in again tomorrow, but you know to call if you need anything.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>YES MOM.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Chloe laughs, shaking her head at her irrepressible friend. She leaves the list on the countertop to remind herself to ask Lucifer about it when he comes up and settles in front of his giant TV, picking a movie at random.</p><p>Lucifer takes the lift to Maze’s apartment level and takes the stairs up to the penthouse, not wanting the elevator chime to wake Chloe this late.</p><p>He finds her asleep on the settee, with a list of Netflix suggestions quietly playing on the television. He smiles tenderly down at her curled form. He debates for a moment if he should get her a blanket, or move her into the bedroom and get <em>himself</em> a blanket… torn between possibly terrifying her by touching her while she’s asleep and being a gentleman by letting her have the bed while he takes the couch. Being a gentleman wins, because he can’t bear for her to sleep uncomfortably if he can help it.</p><p>He transfers her to the bedroom holding her as far away from himself and moving as quickly as possible, then tucks her into his blankets still fully clothed. He removes his suit and settles into his pajama trousers and robe, snagging blankets for himself from the linen closet. He turns off the television, pours himself a drink and notices something on the bar.</p><p><em>Did she leave me a note? </em>He glances at it before realizing it’s the list he was working on before he called Linda for help. <em>Bollocks. Well, at least she can see that I’m trying to figure out how to help her. Maybe that will be enough to encourage her to talk to me about it.</em></p><p>He crumples up the list and throws it away, finishes his drink, and nestles himself into his blankets on the settee. Despite the warmth of the evening and the softness of blankets, he feels cold and empty as he drifts into sleep.</p><p>*</p><p>“Lucifer, what the <em>hell?</em>” Chloe’s irritation breaks him out of restless dreams with a start. He opens his eyes blearily to find her glaring down at him, and he shrinks back into his nest of blankets. “Why didn’t you come to bed?”</p><p>“I… am in bed?”</p><p>“To <em>your</em> bed, Lucifer.” <em>Ah, there’s the eye roll, we’re getting an early start today</em>. “Why did you move me to your bed, but you slept out here?”</p><p>“I didn’t want to disturb you.”</p><p>“No,” frustration bleeds into her tone. “If you didn’t want to disturb me, you could have left me on the couch.”</p><p>“The couch is hardly a suitable place for you to sleep, you would have been painful when you woke up.”</p><p>“But it’s okay for <em>you</em> to sleep there?”</p><p>“Devil, darling.” He observes dryly. “Immortal, impervious, et cetera?”</p><p>“Yes, I’m aware, thank you.” He doesn’t flinch at her sharp tone, but it’s a near thing. She’s still glaring at him, and he flails for something to say.</p><p>“Are you… are you truly angry at me for giving you the more comfortable bed?” He carefully keeps his eyes down, keeping himself curled up small on the couch to appear as unthreatening as possible.</p><p>“No, of course not!” She sighs noisily. “I’m <em>annoyed</em> that you moved me to <em>your bed</em>, then chose to sleep elsewhere. What’s going on? You’ve been acting strangely.” He carefully sits up, folding his knees up to his chest. His eyes flicker up to her face briefly before darting back down and she suddenly remembers the list. <em>No eye contact.</em> <em>Move slowly.</em> “Lucifer, talk to me.”</p><p>“I… I don’t know what happened.” He says, so softly she can barely hear him.</p><p>“What do you mean, you don’t know?” she’s nearly shouting in frustration as she plops down beside him, and he surreptitiously scoots away from her. <em>“Clearly</em> something happened. What was it?”</p><p>“I don’t know what it was, Detective,” still in that unbearably soft voice, but now with a slight underlying tremor. “I asked you, but you… you didn’t want to tell me.”</p><p>All the anger and frustration drains from her instantly, her stomach falling as though a trap door has been sprung in the floor below her. Her jaw sags and she <em>looks</em> at the man before her. <em>Keep distance. No threatening voice.</em> Eyes downcast, making himself as small as he possibly can. It comes to her like a devastating bolt of lightning what she’s done to him over the past twenty-four hours, simply by hiding behind her own insecurities.</p><p>“Oh my… Lucifer, <em>no.”</em> She whispers, appalled. “You think I’m… you think <em>I’m</em> afraid of you? Why?”</p><p>“I know fear when I see it, Detective,” his voice is still low, on the verge of breaking. “You were <em>terrified</em> at the hospital. I… I’ll admit I don’t understand why <em>then</em> instead of when I went after Leona, except perhaps you were distracted by the arrest in front of you, and then by being late to get Miss Lopez, but… you <em>were</em> afraid, and when you wouldn’t tell me what happened… what else am I to think, Detective? I’m not bloody stupid.”</p><p>“Well you’re doing a really good impression of it, then,” she snaps testily, only to clap her hand over her mouth regretfully as Lucifer carefully slides off the couch and heads for his bedroom without another word. She immediately follows after, but the bedroom is empty. “Lucifer?!” Her voice breaks as she sprints for the balcony, but she can see it’s empty.</p><p>“Detective.” His quiet voice comes from the closet and her breath catches in relief as she bolts in after him. He’s utterly naked, bending with his back to her as he steps into a pair of boxer briefs.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” She offers apologetically. He doesn’t look at her, only moves to the rack of trousers, choosing carefully. “Lucifer. I am sorry.”</p><p>“You’ve just apologized for suggesting that I’m acting as though I’m simpleminded, Detective. Is this another apology for that, or is this for something else entirely?” Still soft-voiced, but infused with unmistakable anger.</p><p>“I don’t…” she stops, swallows hard. She feels as though she’s walking on a knife’s edge. He’s working so hard to keep himself together, she can do no less. “I’m <em>not</em> afraid of you Lucifer. I’m sorry I made you think that I was.”</p><p>“You were afraid.” He counters mildly, still perusing the racks of clothing. She takes a step closer to him, then another.</p><p>“I was… I think I had a panic attack,” she admits softly. <em>“Not</em> because I’m afraid of you.”</p><p>“If not of me, then what?” There’s a genuine note of concern in his voice now, and she feels her muscles in her shoulders relax a tiny bit.</p><p>“I was… <em>am</em>… I’m afraid of <em>losing you</em>, Lucifer,” she confesses. “At the hospital, you were talking with Ella about how much it hurts to get shot and… and suddenly I was reliving <em>every time</em> you’ve gotten injured because I was nearby. That’s what it was… it felt like forever and no time at all, and you were injured or dying and in pain and it was all <em>because of me</em>, and—” she feels her breaths getting shallower and her voice getting higher as she keeps talking. Her vision starts to narrow as though she’s looking through a dark tunnel and suddenly strong arms are around her, supporting her sagging body. She feels the rumble of his voice in his chest against her face, but the words don’t register until some time later. The tunnel caves in, and she plummets into darkness.</p>
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<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Chasing Wild Geese Can Be Fun, If Done Properly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He registers the fear even as her speech starts to falter, turning to find her blank-eyed, trembling, and panting behind him. Her knees begin to buckle and he catches her before she can crumple to the floor, scooping her into his arms and carrying her to the bed. He anxiously checks to make sure she’s breathing and otherwise well, and relaxes minutely as her breathing slowly comes more evenly and she starts to move restlessly. He tentatively strokes her hair, murmuring to her and she settles immediately, turning into his touch.</p><p><em>I suppose she really </em>isn’t<em> afraid of me,</em> he realizes slowly. <em>Surely she’d be moving away, otherwise?</em></p><p>“It’s all right, you’re safe. Nothing scary here but me, and I hope I never give you cause to fear me again.” Her eyes flicker open, catching and holding his and he watches them flood with relief. “Welcome back, darling. I’m sorry if I pushed you into—”</p><p>“Nnn—” she makes a negative noise in her throat, reaching up lazily to press her fingers against his lips. “I should have just <em>told you</em> what happened instead of shutting you out. I was afraid, and I’m a cop. We’re not supposed to let fear rule us, but this felt like it was winning and I didn’t know what to do. I’m… I’m serious, Lucifer, I <em>can’t lose you</em>. If I lose you or Trixie… there’s no saving me.”</p><p>“You’re a brilliant cop, Detective,” he assures her, still stroking her hair. “But you are still <em>human</em>, and even if you weren’t, you lot certainly don’t corner the market on <em>fear</em>. I’m happy to discuss anything with you darling, but I think we both know Linda is going to be far more helpful than I could ever be.”</p><p>Chloe sits up and yanks him into a hug, sighing in relief as his arms close around her without hesitation, cradling her close to his bare chest.</p><p>“I didn’t like it,” she murmurs into his shoulder, and she feels the vibration of his querying sound. “When you… when you wouldn’t look at me, when you kept pulling away… I don’t like that.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he whispers into her hair, “I truly was only trying to avoid frightening you further.”</p><p>“I know, I found your list. I thought something had happened with Ella, that you’d maybe scared her somehow.” She presses her lips against his shoulder. “Lucifer, I… I don’t want you to <em>change</em> who you are in order to accommodate me, okay? I <em>love</em> who you are.”</p><p>“I didn’t think my pulling away would be perceived as a punishment, though I do know from experience that it’s quite effective as one… You’re quite adept at it, really. But,” he pulls back, his brow creased in confusion, “That’s… not what you’ve said in the past? You’ve said—many times—that my… my ‘<em>me</em>-ness’ was very much a problem for you.”</p><p><em>“It’s not a good time for all your… Luciferness.”  “There’s no way you can help me right now. You’re just… you’re too… </em>you<em>.” “Oh. Yes, you're right, Detective. Being me seems to be a problem, doesn't it? Everywhere I go, someone gets hurt.”</em></p><p><em>Every time I’ve pulled away, or pushed him away… he’s seen it as me punishing him for something. And he probably thought he deserved it. </em>She squeezes her eyes shut and clings tighter to him as she recalls those moments… when she’d been wrapped up in something and he’d been typically clueless and she’d thought he was only a self-centered (albeit occasionally charming) asshole. She’d hurt and frustrated him in a thousand ways, all without ever realizing it… so much more than he’d hurt and frustrated her. Nearly <em>all</em> of her moments of utter exasperation could be explained away with her realization that he truly <em>isn’t</em> human, and <em>does</em>—or at least <em>did</em>—lack any kind of frame of normal reference. With <em>him</em>, though… <em>I’m going to have to be so very careful. Every time I didn’t believe him, every time I blew him off when he would talk about his ‘metaphors’… it’s like I’ve been stabbing him again and again.</em></p><p>“I’m sorry, Lucifer,” she offers again, knowing how woefully inadequate the words are. “I know I’ve said some unkind things to you, and probably some that came out far crueler than I ever would have intended. I… The only thing I can say is that I know you <em>better</em> now and when I think about it, I can <em>understand</em> your… your ‘Luciferness.’ I was always comparing you to a human before, and… you just don’t have that human experience to draw from yet.” She feels him tense against her, and she rushes to continue. “And that’s <em>okay</em>, but now that I believe you, I know <em>not</em> to expect you to have that experience, so I can just explain it if you need me to.”</p><p>She feels his slow nod against her hair, and he clears his throat. “I, er, think we should talk to Linda together on Monday, if you can work it in?”</p><p>“Yes, please.” She rubs her cheek against his shoulder, and realizes she’s crying. <em>Anything to help us avoid another incident like this.</em> His lips brush her forehead, and his warm breath suffuses her hair as his chest heaves in a deep sigh.</p><p>“Are you feeling all right now?” he asks softly, and she nods. He pulls away and stands, still clad only in his boxer-briefs. “Good. Because I think you’re going to be late for work. And I need to bring Miss Lopez breakfast.”</p><p>She glances at the clock and curses to herself, pulling a small smile from her partner. “Are you coming into the precinct later?”</p><p>“I can,” he offers readily. “Chasing wild geese can be fun if done properly.”</p><p>She grins at him as he turns toward the closet to finish dressing, while she rushes to put her boots on. She dashes back to the closet just as he’s tucking his pocket square in place and pulls him into a quick kiss. “See you soon?”</p><p>“I’ll bring you breakfast as well, worry not.” He grins down at her, and she pulls him in for another, lingering kiss. “You’ll be late.”</p><p>“I’m going,” she sighs. “I love you, Lucifer.”</p><p>“And I you, Detective.” He watches her until the lift doors close behind her, then moves to the bathroom to complete his morning grooming.</p><p>*</p><p>Lucifer is just packaging a vast array of crepes into insulated travel containers for Ella’s breakfast when he hears the wings on the balcony.</p><p>“Brother?” Arael’s voice drifts through the flat tentatively as Lucifer locks the last lid into place.</p><p>“In the kitchen, Arael!” He calls back. “Everything all right?”</p><p>“Yes, good.” Arael appears at the bar, glancing at the stacks of containers in puzzlement. “What’s all this?”</p><p>“Breakfast,” Lucifer answers shortly, “for Miss Lopez and me. I need to check on her before I head to work.”</p><p>“How is Ella?” Arael asks interestedly, concern shining in his vivid blue-green eyes. “I stayed at the hospital until it seemed she was waking up, but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.”</p><p>“So you waited ‘til you saw her moving, then snuck out?” Lucifer grins wickedly. <em>“You</em>, brother, are not allowed to comment on my relationship with the Detective anymore.”</p><p>“What? Why not?” Arael’s freckled face wrinkles in consternation at the change in subject. “Is Ella okay?”</p><p>“Miss Lopez is healing. She is on medications that make her sleepy, but was quite herself when I stopped by with her dinner last evening. Would you like to come with me to deliver her breakfast?”</p><p>“I…” He hesitates. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”</p><p>“No intrusion on my part, brother,” Lucifer intones cheerfully. “In fact, if you’re both comfortable with the idea, perhaps you could stay with her for the day? I know the Detective was anxious about leaving her all alone yesterday, but we both have to work. Besides, you can help me carry these. I… may have gotten a little carried away in my preparations.” He looks at the countertop stacked high with containers.</p><p>“Those are <em>all</em> full of food?” Arael asks incredulously.</p><p>“Variety is vital when crepes are involved,” Lucifer sniffs petulantly. “I wasn’t sure what she liked, so I made several different fillings.”</p><p>“She <em>is</em> a special one, isn’t she?” Arael smiles fondly at his brother.</p><p>“She reminds me a lot of Rae when she was younger, <em>before</em>.”</p><p>Arael nods, helping Lucifer stack the containers on the little cart he’s pulled from somewhere. “That’s probably why they’ve been friends for so long. Are you certain I won’t be intruding?”</p><p>“Why don’t you call her and ask?”</p><p>“Oh! The phone!” Arael’s eyes widen comically. “Er…”</p><p>“Please tell me you didn’t drop it in the pond.”</p><p>“No, but I did forget about it. It’s back at the house.”</p><p>“Have you kept it charged, at least?” Lucifer needles him playfully. “Or is it simply playing paperweight for your catalogs?”</p><p>“It’s plugged in to the holes in the wall. I left it there.”</p><p>“All right… it’s perhaps best <em>not</em> to leave it charging all the time, but you should get in the habit of carrying it. They can be handy little devices. And I apparently need to teach you to use a space bar.”</p><p>“What does a bar have to do with space?”</p><p>Lucifer chuckles, and pulls out his phone. He pulls up his messages and patiently shows Arael how to use the space bar to separate words.</p><p>“Oh. I suppose that does make sense.”</p><p>“Not to worry, brother, both the Detective <em>and</em> Miss Lopez thought it was adorable.”</p><p>“Adorable?” Arael repeats faintly.</p><p>“Mmhm,” Lucifer hums happily. “Not so fun being on the receiving end of that word, now is it brother?” His phone chimes and he grins.</p><p>“Miss Lopez says you’re welcome to join us for breakfast, so let’s get going.” He pushes the cart into the elevator, followed closely by his brother. “I’d like to get the Detective her breakfast before they get cold.”</p><p>*</p><p>Ella’s reaction to Lucifer’s breakfast delivery is priceless. Her eyes look ready to fall out of her head as Arael obligingly wheels the cart (which conveniently collapses for easy transport in the tiny trunk of Lucifer’s Corvette) through the door.</p><p>“Wow, Lucifer, how hungry <em>are </em>you?”</p><p>“Oh, not to worry, Miss Lopez, I’ll be eating breakfast with the Detective. Our portion is still in the car.”</p><p>“What?! No way am I going to be able to eat all this—”</p><p>“Oh, that’s all right. Healing is hungry work, and Arael can help finish off what you can’t eat. Don’t underestimate an angel’s capacity for sweets, darling.” Lucifer grins. “Now, do tell me how you are feeling, because the Detective is going to ask me the moment I arrive, as will the entire precinct, I’m certain.”</p><p>“Better!” The tiny woman chirps as she starts to dig through the containers. “These smell <em>amazing</em> Lucifer, how many different fillings did you make?”</p><p>“Erm…” he touches his ring nervously. “I may have lost count. Maybe a half dozen… or more.”</p><p>“He wanted to make sure there was something you’d like,” Arael adds helpfully, ignoring Lucifer’s baleful stare.</p><p>“Yes, well,” Lucifer says loudly, over Ella’s drawn-out exclamation of cuteness. “After my recent experience with increased hunger while healing, I simply wanted to make sure you didn’t experience what I did, Miss Lopez.”</p><p>“Well, I wouldn’t want to argue with such thoughtfulness,” Ella smiles at him gratefully. “And speaking of—I didn’t get to thank you for coming with me to the hospital, Arael. I also need to text Amenadiel to thank him.”</p><p>She takes a bite of her dulce de leche crepe and makes a happy little noise as she chews. “Oh woooow, Lucifer, this is <em>fantastic</em>. Yeah, I might be able to eat a few more than I thought…” Her reaction encourages Arael to try the ones he’d suspiciously loaded on his own plate, and nothing more is heard for several minutes other than their contented chewing. Lucifer watches their reactions, pleased with their enjoyment of his efforts, and stands to make his exit.</p><p>“Well, I really must be going, the Detective is probably getting one of those horrid sandwiches from the vending machine by now. Brother, did you actually need anything from me this morning?”</p><p>“I only had some questions about the cats—er, catalogs, but I can ask you later.”</p><p>“Miss Lopez, the Detective was dreadfully worried about you being alone yesterday, I was rather hoping I might persuade you to allow Arael to keep you company for at least part of today? Perhaps you could order lunch in, and I can bring you dinner this evening?”</p><p>“Oh. Really?” She glances at Arael, who looks up her with a small smile as he enjoys his crepes. She stifles a laugh at the small daub of crème filling that clings to the corner of his mouth. “Well, I’m probably going to be snoozing a lot, but if you’re bored, you’re welcome to hang out with me and Margaret.”</p><p>“Margaret?”</p><p>“All right, I’m off. Miss Lopez, text with your wishes for dinner and I shall do my best to fulfill them. Arael, don’t forget what I told you about the phone!”</p><p>And then he’s out the door, and the two remaining occupants are staring at each other over their plates in the sudden silence.</p><p>“Margaret’s my chicken. She lives in my bathtub.”</p><p>“Really?” Arael sounds interested. “I’ve read that some humans use chickens to keep insects from overrunning their gardens! I never had that problem in the Silver City, but if I’m to garden here, I need to start learning about these types of things.  What can you tell me about chicken care?”</p><p>“Oh, they’re amazing!  It’s like having my very own little dinosaur— wait—have you <em>actually seen dinosaurs?</em>”</p><p>*</p><p>Lucifer texts Linda on his way into the precinct with his and Chloe’s breakfast containers, making certain she’ll have time for a joint session for them on Monday along with everyone else’s.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Of course. I’m coming to Lux again?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Unless you feel safe having Michael in your office?</em>
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</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Lux is good. See you bright and early Monday.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>He smirks at the screen as he descends the stairs, tucking it back into his jacket pocket. The Detective is on a phone call, diligently making notes on her notepad, so he heads straight for the breakroom to get her a coffee since he hadn’t wanted to waste more time by stopping for her preferred order at the coffee shop. By the time he returns, she’s hanging up the call and grins at him as he approaches.</p><p>“Those don’t look like take-out containers,” she observes eagerly.</p><p>“I made crepes for Miss Lopez, and may have overestimated just how many I needed…”</p><p>“Oooo, crepes?” She snatches at the top container as he laughs at her eagerness.</p><p>“I think you’ll enjoy the contents of <em>this</em> container best, Detective, but you’re welcome to try them all.” He pulls one from the center of his stack.</p><p>“What’s in <em>that</em> one?” She pauses with her hand on the lid of the container in her hand.</p><p>“Lemon.”  He supplies easily. “The one in your hand is blackberry.”</p><p>Her eyes narrow on the lemon container and he chuckles, placing it on the desk in front of her. “I told Miss Lopez I needed to hurry to get here before you raided that dreadful sandwich machine. I still don’t understand how you can stomach those, darling.”</p><p>“How is Ella this morning?” Chloe ignores his jab at the sandwich machine. She <em>likes</em> them.</p><p>“Quite chipper. I left her eating breakfast with Arael,” Lucifer smirks. “He stopped by this morning after you left, and I had very little trouble convincing him to help me make the breakfast delivery.”</p><p>“Lucifer, please tell me you’re not matchmaking Ella and your brother.” She likes Arael, and she loves Ella, but she’s not keen on people manipulating others’ relationships—and she stops that thought right there. Lucifer would never manipulate someone that way. “Wait, scratch that. I know you wouldn’t do that. I’m sorry.”</p><p>The tenseness that had started to spread across his face melts into a weak smile. “Thank you for that, Detective. I would never push someone into a relationship, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the show. Arael told me he stayed at Miss Lopez’s bedside until she started to wake, then he left before she knew he was still there. I told him he was not allowed to comment on <em>us</em> anymore after that.”</p><p>Chloe smirks, knowing her devil’s aversion to being called adorable—though he often <em>is.</em> “Did you tell him you’ve given them a couple-name?”</p><p>“Oooh! No, I did not!” Lucifer’s eyes light up with glee, and she knows it’s only a matter of time before Lucifer teases Arael with it. “I’ll give them some time. Arael can be sensitive to teasing, though he can also give as good as he gets.”</p><p>“I can believe that.” Chloe thinks about Arael’s dry sense of humor and chuckles. She takes a bite of her lemon crepe and makes a happy little noise as she chews contentedly while Lucifer digs into his chocolate one.</p><p>“So what have we to do today, Detective? More leads on our dear friend Marco?”</p><p>“Actually, no.” She laughs at the blatant look of relief on his face. “I just finished the last call when you walked up, and oddly enough, they haven’t heard from him.”</p><p>“Hm,” Lucifer hums noncommittally. He finishes his chocolate and moves on to a blueberry one just as the Lieutenant appears at her desk.</p><p>“Decker. Looks like you’ve hit a wall with the Franklin suspect?” His demeanor is stern, but that’s nothing new for Masterson.</p><p>“Yes sir,” Chloe swallows her bite quickly and updates him. “He’s in the wind for now.” <em>Or the waves. Whichever.</em></p><p>“Well, even with a close rate like yours, eventually there’s going to be one we can’t catch. I’ve got a new case for you. Vic’s a realtor, minor local celebrity, one of the Murphy twins. Forensics isn’t there yet, so you’ve got some time to finish your breakfast… if you can.” He eyes the containers on the desk wryly.</p><p>“Would you care for a crepe, Lieutenant?” Lucifer offers politely.</p><p>“You made crepes?” Masterson looks at him critically.</p><p>“I’m a fantastic cook,” Lucifer boasts truthfully. “Those are strawberry, though I think as long as you don’t touch the Detective’s lemon ones, you should be able to pick any of the other containers and be quite happy.”</p><p>“Strawberry, hm?” The Lieutenant eyes it. “I haven’t had homemade crepes in <em>forever</em>.”</p><p>“Do help yourself,” Lucifer gestures expansively and the Lieutenant looks around furtively before snagging the container with the strawberry crepes and making a break for his office, tossing a gruff thank you over his shoulder.</p><p>“Keep it up and he might actually start liking you, Lucifer.” Chloe chuckles around a fresh mouthful of lemon crepe.</p><p>“What’s not to like?” Lucifer straightens his jacket with a show of looking down his long nose. “I’ll have you know he’s been quite polite to me since you’ve returned. I can’t really blame him for being indifferent to me before… I truly didn’t <em>do</em> anything while you were gone except turn up to see if you were there… and I’m sure he considered me utterly useless. He seemed downright understanding when I explained why I didn’t want to work with another detective while you were suspended.”</p><p>“What <em>did</em> you tell him?” Chloe asks, curious now.</p><p>“The truth, of course,” he chuckles. “That most detectives aren’t open-minded enough to deign to listen to a crackpot consultant, even when he makes good sense.”</p><p>“You’re not a crackpot, Lucifer,” she murmurs, patting his knee quickly. “But you <em>do</em> make sense… from time to time.”</p><p>He sticks his tongue out at her, and she laughs because it’s stained purple from his most recent crepe. Chloe flips through the file the Lieutenant handed her as she finishes her last crepe, and Lucifer manages to inhale two more before she finishes.</p><p>“Killed with a hammer?” Lucifer whistles appreciatively. “What a shame Miss Lopez is going to miss this one, you know she’d love the novelty of it.”</p><p>*</p><p>Lucifer looks down at the crumpled flier gripped tightly in his hands, his handsome face pale.</p><p>“Primary suspect is the twin sister, Moira?” Chloe verifies with the forensic tech, keeping a concerned eye on her partner.</p><p>“Yep. The younger sister Beth found her standing over the body holding this hammer. Definitely the murder weapon.” The tech holds up the bagged hammer. “Gotta be pretty messed up… killing someone with your <em>own face</em>… What kind of psycho does that?”</p><p>“I think psycho sums it up nicely,” Lucifer croaks, forcing himself to look away from the pamphlet. “Sometimes there’s a darkness below the surface, just waiting to emerge…” He trails off, eyes distant and Chloe covertly brushes her shoulder against him in support.</p><p>“We’ve got a BOLO for the twin, but no luck yet. Beth wasn’t aware of any tension between them, so we’ll just have to keep looking. I’ll finish up here and we can head back to the precinct.”</p><p>Two hours later, they’re back at the precinct looking over Moira’s phone records.</p><p>“That’s weird,” Chloe muses, and Lucifer looks over her shoulder to see what she’s noticed. “The first call she made after the murder was to their accountant.”</p><p>“Think she’s going to run?” Lucifer suggests. He’s been abnormally quiet since the scene this morning, and she’s glad to hear him sharing a theory.</p><p>“Let’s see what he has to say.” Chloe gathers her keys and they head for the accountant’s office, where they find that Moira had accused <em>him</em> of murdering Megan, who had recently taken over the company’s accounting. He offers them the thumb drive that Megan had dropped off, but realizes it’s missing when he looks in the locked cabinet. After a few more questions, they get a call from the precinct informing them that their suspect has turned herself in for questioning, but is maintaining her innocence.</p><p>On the drive back, Lucifer’s stillness niggles at Chloe’s mind. This case isn’t just hitting <em>close</em> to him, he’s lived it… from Megan’s point of view. And far too recently for comfort.</p><p>“Hey,” she reaches across the console, wrapping her fingers around his. “You okay?”</p><p>He visibly pulls himself from his thoughts, straightening in his seat as he turns his dark eyes to hers. “Yes, I’ll be fine,” he assures her softly, returning the pressure on her hand. “I just… I’d like to know <em>why</em>. What had she done, or what had her sister <em>thought</em> she had done… to drive her to murder?”</p><p>“Well, we’ll find out soon enough,” Chloe pulls into the parking garage and they proceed directly to the interrogation room where Moira sits with swollen red eyes and her head dejectedly resting in her hands.</p><p>“Tell me, Moira,” Lucifer purrs, and his tone is deadly calm. “What had your sister done to warrant you murdering her?”</p><p>“I didn’t kill Megan,” Moira replies, her voice resonating with pain. She turns her empty eyes to the pair of them. “Two days ago, I got a notice of an overdraft on our corporate account. I called Megan, because she handles more of the financial side. She’s the smarter one of us.”</p><p>“Ah, so you hated your own lack of intelligence and took it out on her!” Lucifer crows, slapping his hands down on the table.</p><p>“Lucifer!” Chloe hisses quietly, as the grieving woman jumps in her chair. “Moira, please go ahead.”</p><p>“Megan told me it was no big deal.” Her voice trembles as she continues her tale. “I could tell something was wrong, but I just figured she'd handle it. I knew we were showing a house this morning, so I went. But I found Megan... dead on the ground. I… I just found her there, and… and when the door opened and I saw how Beth was looking at me… I <em>ran</em>. I ran, and ran, and didn’t look back.”</p><p>“If you’re innocent, why not just explain to Beth that you didn't do it?” Chloe points out clinically.</p><p>“Because I looked so guilty!” She sobs, rubbing her eyes. “I figured I had to find out who the real killer was. That's why I called Willy. He claims that Megan took over the financials for the last couple of months, so...” She sighs, and her breath catches in her throat.</p><p>“Did someone else maybe have access to them?”</p><p>“Megan's husband. Arnold.” She pushes her fingers into her hair, eyes wide. “Oh, God, it could've been him.”</p><p>“Arnold.” Chloe nods, glancing at Lucifer, who finally looks convinced. “Okay, good, we will bring him in and have a chat.”</p><p>Chloe sends Lucifer to collect a late lunch for both of them while the husband is brought in for questioning. He returns just as she’s gesturing Arnold and his attorney from the interrogation room.</p><p>“Here we are,” he sets down the bags and starts pulling containers of Chinese food from them. “Is that the husband with a high-priced lawyer to boot? That bodes well for his guiltiness.”</p><p>“Well, he denied everything and the search warrant for the house didn't yield any information.” Chloe picks up some chopsticks and digs into the nearest container, not even checking to see what it is.</p><p>“Ah, so it is the sister.” Lucifer hums thoughtfully, digging into his own container. “She killed the twin and ran off with the evidence.”</p><p> “No, we just got the time of death back. Megan died 30 minutes before Moira was found standing over the body. So, she either stopped to admire her work...” Chloe trails off suggestively.</p><p>“Or it isn't her.” Lucifer finishes resignedly. “Does the husband have an alibi?”</p><p>“No, he's still our best suspect. Megan's laptop is missing, and he did have easy access to that, so, maybe he was stealing money from their company.” She takes a deep pull from her soda, and stabs a dumpling with a chopstick to transfer it to her mouth.</p><p>“Maybe she caught him and they got into a fight…” he muses quietly, “And after a little brutal murder, he ran off with the evidence.”</p><p>“Yeah. We're still trying to get the husband's financial records to see if he spent a lot of money recently, but his lawyer is stonewalling.” Chloe watches her partner carefully. “Are you sure you’re okay?”</p><p>“Yes, of course,” he replies absently, digging deep into his rapidly emptying container of food. “I’m rather glad it wasn’t the twin, Detective. That does help put some… distance into the case. It keeps coming back to the missing information on that thumb drive… and her laptop. It’s a shame the accountant didn’t make a copy.”</p><p>“Lucifer!” Chloe cries joyfully, “That’s it! The information on the thumb drive!”</p><p>“Yes, information that <em>we don’t have</em>,” he points out waspishly.</p><p>“But what if we <em>did?”</em></p><p>“Well, we don’t.” His eyes flick up to lock with hers. “But… if the killer <em>thought</em> we did…”</p><p>“Exactly! We can have Moira tell the family that she is selling off the company to a wealthy buyer—” she eyes Lucifer meaningfully, “then we have Moira present the fake copy of the financials to you at a party at Lux!”</p><p>“Then just sit back and wait for the killer to steal them.” Lucifer leans back in his chair, crossing his legs with a satisfied air. “Oh, I do so love it when we can get the murderers to do that part of our jobs for us…”</p><p>Chloe contacts Moira, who is more than willing to fib to her family to flush out the killer of her twin. They set the sting for tomorrow evening at Lux, and go about laying their plans for the rest of the afternoon.</p><p>*</p><p>Ella manages to stay awake for most of the day, mostly due to her <em>fascinating</em> company. After a crash course in paleobotany—from someone who freaking <em>designed it—</em>they have a long discussion about chicken care.</p><p>Arael smirks when she tries to draw comparisons between chicken feathers and angel feathers, and comparative wing anatomy.</p><p>“Granted, I haven’t seen many angels’ wings, but they’re all so different! Does that have some significance?”</p><p>“Possibly,” Arael allows thoughtfully. “Our wings are very personal, so it would make sense that they reflect something of our personalities. Amenadiel’s are sturdy and trustworthy, Gabriel’s are sleek and fast, Phanuel’s are soft and silent. Azrael’s are… nearly incorporeal. Lucifer’s are—”</p><p>“Gorgeous and shiny?” Ella suggests, and they both laugh.</p><p>“I was going to say ‘flamboyant’, but your description works just as well. His wings were always the envy of many, including Michael.” The laughter drains from his eyes at the thought of Lucifer’s twin, now wingless.</p><p>“Do you… do you think he can really heal enough of his soul so he’s <em>not</em> a murderous asshole?” Ella asks quietly. “I’m usually all for second chances, and I know he’s your brother, but…”</p><p>“Michael’s actions have disturbed the entire host greatly,” Arael admits candidly. “Murder of a sibling is anathema—the backlash in the Silver City when Lucifer killed Uriel was massive, even though most had at least an inkling that Uriel’s sanity had been steadily waning for centuries.”</p><p>“He was really messed up after that,” Ella defends her friend staunchly. “When he found out Uriel was behind giving the priest that poison, you should have seen how <em>sad</em> he was.”</p><p>“I believe you, Ella,” Arael reassures her. “And the rest of the Host knows the truth about Michael setting Uriel on the path to targeting Lucifer now as well. Or if they don’t already, they will soon, with Phanuel as Lucifer’s voice of truth in the Silver City.”</p><p>“Bit of a talker?” Ella grins, but it falls from her face quickly as the rest of his statement strikes her. “Michael sicced Uriel on Lucifer?  Jeez, what is <em>with</em> him?”</p><p>“Phanuel is incredibly popular, and is known for speaking the truth. Lucifer made an excellent choice in her.” A grimace crosses Arael’s face. “And as for Michael… I honestly don’t know how much he can recover. I am not precisely a healer, and certainly not one of minds. The sheer amount of depravity I’ve witnessed from him… it unsettles me deeply.”</p><p>Ella reaches out and places her hand carefully on his shoulder in support, unsure if he would accept the gesture. He stares at her hand for a moment, then places his hand over it, squeezing it gently in thanks as he’d seen Lucifer do with Chloe. They smile at each other for a moment, then Arael drops his hand and changes the subject.</p><p>“When you led us to the gravesite, you said you had recovered the map that my mother had drawn by using polyvinyl acetate? I’d still like to know more about that process. What can you tell me about it?”</p><p>Ella’s eyes light up, and she launches into all the sciency details that make her geeky heart happy as Arael listens intently to her explanation. They order in lunch, and Ella introduces Arael to the intricacies of eating with chopsticks. He does fairly well, but admits he prefers the simplicity of a fork.</p><p>“You don’t have to stay here all day, you know,” Ella yawns. She’s just taken her meds, and they do make her very sleepy. “I’m probably going to doze off here in a bit, no matter <em>how</em> many questions I have for you. These meds knock me out.”</p><p>“If you wish me to leave, of course I will,” Arael says slowly, “But my brother did ask me to watch over you while you were healing, and it is no inconvenience on my part. I… find you pleasant company, and you’re teaching me much about humans and life here on Earth.”</p><p>“Awwww,” She grins at him, flattered. “Well, I can put on a documentary or something and we can watch for a while, because I’m <em>positive</em> I’m going to fall asleep. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like, but I wanted to warn you I’m probably gonna snore.”</p><p>“I’m sure I’ll manage to survive it,” Arael deadpans, sending her into giggles. An hour later, she’s dozing lightly on his shoulder as he carefully holds very still to avoid disturbing her. He’s avidly watching the documentary she chose about the Amazon rainforest when he feels a slight vibration. He looks around for the source, and finds Ella’s phone pressed between the two of them. The screen lights up with his brother’s name, and he touches it, which answers the call.</p><p>“Miss Lopez?” Lucifer’s voice echoes from the phone, and Arael quickly presses it to his ear, speaking quietly.</p><p>“Lucifer, it’s Arael. Ella is asleep.” He whispers as he leans carefully away from her. Her sleeping body slithers downward until her head nestles in his lap. He freezes, unsure what to do, and she wriggles, snuggling in. “Erm… I may be trapped.”</p><p>“Trapped?” Lucifer repeats, puzzled, and Arael can hear Chloe in the background asking if everything’s okay. “I’ll be right there—”</p><p>“No, it’s all right brother, Ella is fine, simply asleep…” he hesitates, “on my lap?”</p><p>“Oh <em>really?</em>” Lucifer’s teasing tone isn’t lost on his brother and he feels his face flush. “Do you need rescue brother, or would you prefer to handle it on your own? We were going to come by with dinner…”</p><p>“I think dinner would be welcome, though there’s no rush. She took her medications a little while ago and explained that they make her sleepy…”</p><p>“Yes, she told us the same,” Lucifer muses. “Very well, we have some things to finish up here. We’ll be by with dinner in a couple of hours then?”</p><p>“That should be fine, I’ll let her know when she wakes.” Arael murmurs, and Lucifer disconnects the call. He looks down at the dozing human trustingly using him as her pillow, and feels a warmth blooming in his chest. He doesn’t move except to hook his arms over the back of the couch to keep from accidentally touching her. He listens to her soft snores and the documentary makes pleasant background noise as his head drifts back to rest on the top of the couch. His breaths deepen to match hers, and his eyes flutter shut, joining his new friend in a late afternoon nap.</p><p>*</p><p>Michael huddles sullenly on the pallet that takes up the corner of the hut. He knows the Grigori are watching him, and he refuses to give them any satisfaction by showing any indication of the sourceless burning pain he’s been experiencing since they dropped him in this ridiculous cell.</p><p>Raphael had warned him that soul regeneration was not painless. He hadn’t expected <em>this</em> level of pain. It’s beyond the sharp, piercing pain of the healing cut across his face, or even the dull, pounding pain of his shoulders where his wings had been.  <em>This</em>, whatever it is, isn’t localized: it affects all of him, and yet none of his physical body. It’s an electric, stabbing sensation—a vague feeling of long dormant… things… coming back to life and grinding into motion.</p><p>He curls tightly, controlling the trembling with sheer stubbornness as his brain burns. He’d stopped trying to shut out the voices literal ages ago, but now that he has nothing else to focus on, they fill his head incessantly. The sheer dichotomy of the calls toward him would be enough to drive anyone mad, he thinks to himself—in those rare moments when it’s quiet enough in his head to <em>hear</em> himself think.</p><p>On the one side—the pleas to Saint Michael for protection and defense. On the other—all the dark and twisted wants and wishes of those that pray to the Beast, The Prince of Lies, Satan, The Adversary.</p><p>Samael never truly earned any of those titles, that was all <em>his </em>doing—of <em>course </em>the prayers were directed to him. He wonders briefly if Samael ever realized why he never got the prayers addressed to the devil. Michael laughs hysterically to himself, but the sound that passes his lips resembles a silent scream.</p><p>The deranged, fallen archangel rocks himself on his pallet as the Grigori grimly watch over him from a distance, ignoring the shrill, rasping echoes of hopeless laughter that emanate from the Garden.</p>
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<a name="section0035"><h2>35. My Emoji Use is Flawless.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe raps softly on Ella’s door, then a little harder when there’s no answer.</p><p>“Lucifer!” She hisses, when he reaches his hand for the knob. “You can’t just go in!”</p><p>“Nonsense, Detective,” He urges cheekily, “Of course I can! Arael knows we were coming with dinner.” He turns the knob without waiting for her to reply and moves smoothly inside with their dinner trappings.</p><p>“Ooooooh,” he croons quietly, “Look at these two little snuggy bugs.”</p><p>Chloe joins him at the couch, finding Ella’s head nestled comfortably on Arael’s thigh, both snoring lightly. She presses her palm to her mouth to hide her smile, not wanting to encourage Lucifer’s glee at finding this peaceful scene. She tugs him away, toward the kitchen.</p><p>“Come on, let’s leave their dinner in the fridge and we’ll head back to Lux,” she whispers. “Clearly she’s doing okay.”</p><p>No sooner said than done, and Lucifer makes sure the door is locked behind them as they sneak from the apartment.</p><p>“We’ll need to brief my security on what to expect tomorrow with the sting, Detective,” Lucifer reminds her as they pull away from Ella’s apartment building. “And by ‘we’, I of course mean ‘you’.”</p><p>“Of course,” she laughs, as she carefully navigates through the evening traffic back to Lux. Lucifer takes their dinner up to the Penthouse while Chloe meets with the security team regarding the plan for tomorrow night. Once she’s addressed their questions and concerns, she steps onto the lift and presses the topmost button with a sigh of relief. Her phone chimes as she steps out of the elevator, and she pulls it from her pocket curiously. Lucifer enters the room from the balcony, finding her laughing and shaking her head at her phone.</p><p>“Something funny, Detective?” he asks curiously, taking a decanter down from his freshly re-stocked shelves and grabbing two tumblers.</p><p>“Looks like Trixie needs more pancake-flipping practice,” Chloe mock-scowls at her partner, who laughs delightedly at the photo she shows him of a batter-covered Dan and a sheepishly grinning Trixie.</p><p>“Well, at least they’re having fun together?” He suggests innocently as she follows him out onto the balcony where he’s set out their dinner, rolling her eyes. “How does Daniel’s job hunt go?”</p><p>“Still not productive, but he’s put out several applications, so he’s trying to be optimistic,” she shrugs and sits next to him on the chaise. “The fact that he’s currently out on bail while waiting for trial somehow doesn’t recommend him as a reliable employee.”</p><p>“I do feel rather badly for that,” Lucifer admits quietly as they finally dig in to their dinner. “If he hadn’t seen me—”</p><p>“Nope,” Chloe says calmly. “You don’t get to take responsibility for <em>his </em>choices, Lucifer. <em>Or</em> mine,” she adds severely as he opens his mouth to argue. He runs his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip stubbornly, and opens his mouth again just as she reaches over, grabs his cheesesteak sandwich, and pops it into his mouth, effectively corking whatever he was going to say. “Eat your dinner, we can argue later.”</p><p>“Promise?” he mumbles around his mouthful of bread, meat, and cheese. Her glare dissolves into laughter at the wicked gleam in his eyes, and she simply shakes her head as she bites into her own Southwestern sandwich with a hum of pleasure.</p><p>“Did you talk to Linda today?” she asks after a few minutes of easy silence.</p><p>“No, but I did text her about a joint session for Monday. She’ll be at Lux most of the day again for all of us, so she says she can fit us in.”</p><p>“So, how does that work, with two of us?” she wonders, curious.</p><p>“I’m not really sure,” he ponders for a moment, chewing his sandwich. “I brought Candy with me to a session once, but it wasn’t a couples’ session, it was mostly just to cement her position in the minds of my mother and brother. I’ve no doubt that the good Doctor can guide us through.”</p><p>“She really is a miracle worker, isn’t she?” She’s happy to note that the mention of Candy doesn’t send flickers of jealousy through her anymore, now that she knows the truth behind that situation. She takes a long pull from her water bottle, thinking that green onions and ranch dressing may not go well with the top-shelf bourbon Lucifer has generously poured for her.</p><p>“Hmm, you’ll have to ask my Father if you see Him again,” Lucifer pales suddenly, rushing to add, “But I sincerely hope you <em>don’t</em> see Him again any time soon, Detective, I didn’t mean—"</p><p>“I know you didn’t mean anything by that, Lucifer,” Chloe catches his hand with hers, lacing her fingers through his soothingly. “And I <em>told</em> you, I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay.” She watches him carefully as they finish their dinner. This case is a rough one for him, even with the twin sister being innocent.</p><p>He clears his throat and retreats to the relative safety of their previous subject. “But yes, Linda is quite the wonder.”</p><p>“Are you sure you’re okay?” she blurts, before she can second-guess herself. “I know this case is… difficult.”</p><p>“No, Detective,” he disagrees mildly. <em>“Hell</em> is difficult. This case… this case is…” he trails off, unable to find words.</p><p>“I know, it's a little too close for comfort for me, too,” she leans into him, wrapping her arm around his lower back. “We can probably do the sting without you, just set up someone else to receive the papers…”</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous,” he huffs, offended. “Everything is already in place and ready to go. I don’t need to be <em>coddled</em>, Detective.”</p><p>“It’s not <em>coddling</em> to be removed from a situation disturbingly close to one you barely lived through recently, Lucifer.”</p><p><em>“Didn’t</em> live through, you mean,” he scoffs softly and she stiffens against him.</p><p>“Please,” she whispers, squeezing him tightly against her as tears start to spill down her cheeks. “Please… don’t. I can’t… Lucifer, please don’t make a joke out of it. We lost you. <em>I</em> lost you. One missed step and we never… <em>I</em> never would have gotten you back. It’s just… please?”</p><p>He realizes his mistake despite her lack of coherence and pulls her close, scooping her sideways into his lap and cradling her close with her head tucked under his chin.</p><p>“We’re a right mess, aren’t we?” He murmurs into her hair, and she chuffs a watery laugh against the lapel of his jacket.</p><p>“It’s the ball in the box,” she mutters, and feels him shift against her shoulder.</p><p>“I… don’t know what that means.” His hand rubs soothing circles on her back as he waits for her response.</p><p>“When my Dad was killed, I saw a therapist for a little while—Mom’s idea.” She sniffles quietly. “He told me that grief is like a ball in a box with a button. When the grief is fresh, it’s close and large and heavy, and it’s always touching the button, triggering that overwhelming sadness, or anger, or denial, or whatever stage of grief you’re in at that time. He said, as time passes, the ball slowly gets smaller and smaller, and hits the button less and less frequently as it loses its mass.”</p><p>“So… you’re saying we just need time?” he asks, trying to parse out the metaphor. “Is there a manager somewhere that we can see about arranging some of that?”</p><p>She barks a desperate laugh at his attempt at light teasing. “We should definitely look into it.”</p><p>“Noted.” He presses his face into her hair. “In the meantime, then, Linda?”</p><p>“Linda,” she agrees.</p><p>They sit, curled quietly together until Chloe dozes against him. He smiles down at her, listening to her light, snuffling snores that will soon get louder as her sleep deepens, and he <em>loves</em> that he knows that about her. He stands and transfers her to the bed, depositing her carefully on top of the covers for now, as he goes back out to the balcony to clean up from dinner. He finishes her untouched bourbon and carries everything back inside, firmly closing the balcony doors behind him.</p><p>He retreats to his closet, removing jacket and waistcoat and making certain his wounds haven’t spotted any blood on the light blue cotton of his shirt as he unbuttons it, untucking it from his belt. As he slips it off, he hears her approaching and turns to face her.</p><p>“Making a habit of visiting my closet, Detective?” he lifts a playful eyebrow at her as she stands in the open doorway watching him.</p><p>“Are you done with that shirt?” she asks playfully, crossing to him and tugging the fabric from his hands as she pulls off her own shirt, unfastens her bra and slips his shirt on, slowly buttoning up the front.</p><p>“Consider it yours,” he breathes, and it comes out shakier than he’d intended. “It looks better on you, anyway.”</p><p>And it does. The baby blue cotton accents the warm blue-grey of her eyes. She slips off her jeans and folds them, placing them on top of the chest of drawers, and he feels a little swell of warmth in his chest at the reminder that she’s comfortable enough to disrobe in front of him, even when they’re not wrapped in the distraction of arousal. The tails of the shirt reach her upper thigh, leaving her modestly covered, but he enjoys the nearly-unobstructed view of her legs nonetheless. He lets his eyes travel down their length, then back up to find her ogling his bare chest.</p><p>“I, um…” her tongue flickers over her lips, and he wants to taste them too. “I need to check in with Trixie before she goes to bed.”</p><p>“Of course,” he smiles fondly, “tell her good job on the practicing.”</p><p>“Could you maybe nudge her toward practicing something more useful?  Like her multiplication tables?”</p><p>“Detective, where is the fun in that? Besides,” he grins wickedly, “frying pan skills could be incredibly important—I know she’s made you watch that ridiculous movie with the long-haired kidnapped girl and her thieving boyfriend.”</p><p>“No one <em>actually</em> fights with frying pans, you know,” Chloe chuckles as she exits the closet to grab her phone.</p><p>“Never say never, Detective!”</p><p>*</p><p>Michael gnaws absently on one of the plants from the dirt patch outside his hut. He doesn't care what it is, or what it tastes like, only that it fills his complaining stomach. He’s perched on a stool, hunched over as Raphael examines the healing wounds on his back under the careful eyes of the Watchers. The Healer pokes and prods and asks questions, and the former Sword tolerates the indignity and grunts his answers.</p><p>“These are healing well, Michael,” Raphael offers tentatively. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>“As though my very <em>being</em> is on fire,’ he growls, dusting dirt from his hands and flexing his shoulders as Raphael finishes applying the salve. “How much longer will this continue? How much longer will you attempt to <em>hold me here?”</em></p><p>“I’ve yet to find any information on how to gauge soul-healing,” the Healer admits quietly. “And we will not release you while you are still a danger to any of the Host.”</p><p><em>“Samael </em>is hardly ‘of the Host’,” he scoffs, annoyed. “Can you at least give me something to <em>do? </em>It’s too <em>loud</em> when I don’t have something to focus on.”</p><p>Raphael stares at his brother, head tilted in confusion. He glances around at the silent garden—there is nothing, not the sound of birds, not the rustle of leaves in a breeze. “What do you mean? It’s completely peaceful here.”</p><p>“Not <em>here,”</em> he gestures scornfully to his literal Eden. “Here,” he gestures angrily to his temple. “I can’t drown them out without something to <em>do</em>.” At Raphael's bemused look, Michael continues irritably, “The <em>prayers,</em> brother, they’re too loud.”</p><p>“Which siblings are bothering you? Just tell them to stop if they’re annoying—”</p><p>“It’s not the voices of our <em>siblings</em> that fill my mind, you simpleton!” he roars, and the Watchers on the walls tense in readiness. “It’s the worthless humans, their pleas and demands and wants and woes!”</p><p>“Come now, brother, there can’t be <em>that</em> many humans that pray to their “Saint” Michael—”</p><p>“Oh, if only those were all,” he laughs, and it’s brittle—as though the merest jolt will shatter him. “If Samael had taken up his mantle as he should have, as I <em>planned</em>, I wouldn’t be dealing with this mess, <em>any of it</em>.”</p><p>“I can’t help if you don’t explain, brother,” Raphael’s exasperation bleeds through and the irritation on Michael’s face deepens into anger.</p><p>“Our feckless fallen brother was <em>supposed</em> to learn to hate humanity during his time in Hell. I was <em>sure</em> that he would,” Michael stands and starts to pace, the Grigori on the walls never wavering from their focus on him. “Especially after how I introduced him to the realm, then made absolutely certain that humanity would hate and fear him for all time. He <em>should</em> have taken up the mantle of the Beast, the Adversary, and reveled in it… in torturing those that came to him after fearing and vilifying him for all their mortal lives.”</p><p>“But he didn’t,” Raphael supplies, trying to ignore the twisting snake of nausea in his gut at his brother’s confession.</p><p>“But he <em>didn’t</em>,” Michael sneers, turning and spreading his arms dramatically. “And so the <em>mantle</em> fell to me.”</p><p>Raphael works it out slowly, thinking his way through. Michael had always been able to hear humans’ prayers, “He Who Is Like God” shares many of their father’s attributes, including hearing human prayer. Samael had also shared that talent, though by the time humans were starting to really populate, he had already been cast out. When Lucifer had chosen to no longer <em>be</em> Samael, he had lost the ability to hear prayers directed to him, even from his siblings. <em>Not that any of us would have prayed to him, at that point.</em> Raphael thinks dryly to himself. Michael had carried out his plan well.</p><p>“So, because it was <em>you</em> who perpetrated the vile acts that Lucifer came to be blamed for, <em>you</em> who spread the tales of horror and temptation and madness… the prayers the humans direct to the Adversary come to you. Because Lucifer <em>rejected</em> the path you tried to force on him... because his innate light proved stronger than your darkness.” He turns his appalled gaze to his brother, still pacing restlessly before him. “But you can still hear the prayers to <em>you</em> as well? How long have you been fielding all these prayers, brother?”</p><p>“I <em>didn’t</em> hear them as much until you trapped me here,” he snarls, whipping around to face the Healer. “I could block most all of them, when I had other things to do to occupy myself.  Now more of the ‘Saint Michael’ prayers are returning and I’ve nothing to distract myself with!”</p><p>“I will see if we can find some occupation for you,” Raphael offers after a moment of thought. “What type of distractions have you found work best?”</p><p>“Anything that requires intense focus. I used to plan the training and guard rosters when they got particularly bad,” a light of hope flares in the archangel’s deep brown eyes.</p><p>“I’ll talk with Remiel.” Raphael unfurls his brown-and-white dappled wings and lifts away as Michael hoots with bitter amusement.</p><p>“Looking a bit ragged there, brother,” he jeers. “Are you trying to fall as well?”</p><p>Raphael doesn’t bother to respond, but just a short time later he’s folding his battered-looking wings away, rapping anxiously at his father’s workshop door.</p><p><em>Please, Father,</em> he prays fervently. <em>I need your guidance in treating your Sword. I fear he may need help beyond my skills.</em></p><p>*</p><p>Trixie chatters away about her day and Chloe aimlessly roams the flat as she listens. Lucifer, now wearing his red silk pajama pants and black, red-trimmed robe, seats himself at his piano and plays quietly to himself.</p><p>“And you’re feeling okay about being there with your dad?” Chloe finally asks, after Trixie finishes her run-down.</p><p>“Well, I miss you. And Lucifer, too,” she can practically see her daughter’s smile as she listens to her, and an answering smile spreads across her face. “But… it’s been kinda nice. He’s trying hard, and… yeah. I’m okay so far.”</p><p>“I’m glad, Monkey. I know your dad was happy you were willing to give him a chance.”</p><p>“Is Lucifer feeling better?” Trixie changes the subject with all the subtlety of a ten-year-old. “I can hear music, is that him playing?”</p><p>“Yeah, he got his new piano yesterday, so he’s getting to know it.”</p><p>“It was really mean of his brother to smash his piano.” Her daughter pauses and Chloe hums quietly in agreement as they both listen to Lucifer play for a moment. Then, quietly, “You’re sure he’s not going to get out and hurt him again, right?”</p><p>“We’re pretty sure. He’s in jail in Heaven, and he doesn’t have wings to get back to Earth without one of his brothers or sisters bringing him, so… yeah. We’re pretty sure.” At this point, Chloe isn’t willing to promise <em>anything</em>… but she certainly hopes he doesn’t manage to come after Lucifer again. "It's almost bedtime for you, Trix, time to go get ready."</p><p>A heavy sigh blusters over the line, and she manages not to laugh. "Fiiiiine. G'night Mom. Love you. Lucifer, too!" </p><p>"I love you too, baby, and I'll let Lucifer know when he's done playing." The call disconnects, and Chloe glances over at her partner, lost in a musical world of his own making. She drifts closer to him, watching his hypnotic swaying movements as the melody flows through him, nimble fingers flying across the keys without any apparent conscious effort. She doesn’t recognize the song, but it’s something that makes her feel quietly happy, pleased to simply watch and listen. As his hands drift into stillness, she realizes she’s standing so closely behind him that she’s nearly brushing against his shoulders.</p><p>He sighs contentedly as his fingerpads silently stroke the keys, then lifts his chin until he’s looking at her above him. The peacefulness of his relaxed expression warms her, and she leans forward and presses a soft upside-down kiss to his lips. He leans back against her as she breaks the kiss and leans forward to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders, her left cheek pressed next to his right.</p><p>“Trixie says goodnight, and wanted me to tell you that she loves you.” He chuckles lightly and she squeezes him gently. “What’s funny?”</p><p>“She texts me that every night, is that not enough?” His phone lights up at his words. Sure enough,</p><p><strong><em>Night Lucifer! ILY!</em></strong> flashes across his notification screen.</p><p>“She says you need to hear it a lot,” Chloe explains, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she straightens up, lightly kneading his shoulders with her fingers instead.</p><p>“Hmm,” he leans his head back, resting it comfortably against her chest as he lets his hands slide limply to his sides.</p><p>“Do you reply to her?” Chloe asks, curious.</p><p>“Of course I do,” one eye cracks open, a strip of offended mahogany depths glaring at her. He picks up the phone and pulls up the message history, showing it to her. She glances at it and laughs softly. There they are, every night, the same words from Trixie, followed by a simple moon and beating heart emoji from Lucifer. “I told you, my emoji use is flawless.”</p><p>She really can’t argue, as Trixie had reacted to every one with a little heart of her own. Lucifer sends tonight’s message and receives the same reaction in response within seconds. Clearly a bit of a ritual for them that she’d been unaware of.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, and his eye slides closed again as her fingers continue to massage his shoulders, being careful not to get too close to the wound on his left one. “I know it’s sometimes difficult for you to say, is all.”</p><p>“One doesn’t need to always be able to <em>say</em> the words to feel them, or express them, Detective,” he chides her gently.</p><p>“I know,” she thinks about his expressive eyes—conveying oceans of emotion that words never could; his attentive habit of noticing and remembering tiny details about those that he loves. The things that he often does for her, for Trixie, without ever calling attention to them, and she knows that’s true. “But knowing that the words are difficult for you makes them even more precious when you <em>can</em> say them.”</p><p>“I <em>do</em> love you, Detective.”</p><p>“I know,” her lips brush his forehead and he chuckles. “What?”</p><p>“Did you really just Han Solo me?” She looks down at him and finds his warm brown eyes narrowed up at her and she bursts out laughing.</p><p>“Don’t worry, I’m <em>not</em> going anywhere,” she presses another kiss to his forehead and his eyes close again. “And I love you too.”</p>
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<a name="section0036"><h2>36. What a Bloody Waste of Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sunday morning passes, with Chloe taking care of the few remaining details for the sting, which was set to start at 1 o’clock. Despite the short notice, attendance is high and the partners survey the milling crowd as they descend the curving staircase arm in arm.</p><p>“There’s Moira,” Chloe points her out, “I’m going to go check in before the presentation.”</p><p>Lucifer watches her cross the room then plays the crowd, sweeping around the club like a force of nature, commandeering some conversations and strategically overhearing others. Chloe finds him again as the “official” presentation of the papers is about to take place.</p><p>“So, Moira just got a call from Megan's husband,” she sidles in close and he loops an arm around her waist, leaning down to hear her better over the music. “He's not coming. He said that he couldn't bear to see the business sold.”</p><p>“So he’s not the killer?” Lucifer asks incredulously. “What a bloody waste of time!”</p><p>“Maybe not!” Chloe squeezes his arm reassuringly. “It would still make sense if the killer had altered something on the records that they would still want that copy, so we’ll go through with it and see who comes sniffing around. This could still work.”</p><p>“Very well, Detective,” he mutters crossly, “Let’s catch a murderer.”</p><p>The fake papers are handed over by a tearful Moira, and Lucifer conspicuously tucks the fake thumb drive in his trouser pocket. Less than an hour later he feels a hand carefully probing that pocket that is most <em>certainly</em> not his, nor his Detective’s. His hand snaps down faster than thought and fastens around a slim wrist, pulling its owner around to stand in front of him.</p><p>“Well, <em>Beth!</em>” he exhales quietly, glancing around for Chloe. “I think perhaps you should come with me so we can have a little chat, hm?”</p><p>He catches Chloe’s eye as he escorts the victim’s younger sister off to one of the side rooms, and she catches up to them as he guides her inside.</p><p>“All right, Beth,” he growls, “I’m afraid my patience is running a bit thin. Why did I find your hand in my pocket?”</p><p>“I—I’m sorry, I thought you might like—”</p><p>“Why did you want the thumb drive, Beth?” Chloe asks, more gently. “You were at the scene of the crime.”</p><p>“I... I was showing that house.”</p><p>“You could've snuck away for a few minutes without anyone noticing. <em>Why did you desire the files on the drive?”</em> Lucifer leans over her, eye contact unwavering, and Beth folds.</p><p>“Because I didn't want anyone to know what I had done. Moira and Megan were the perfect sisters… and I was the black sheep.” A single tear beads on her lashes and falls, followed quickly by more. She laughs bitterly and it catches thickly in her throat. “Always screwing up. Barely even trusted with showing the houses. Moira never believed in me. But Megan... Megan knew I could do better, so when I asked if I could help with the finances... She kept it secret. And then I heard about a sure-thing investment. I… I was going to use those profits and start my own business. Pay them back, prove to them that I wasn't what they thought.”</p><p>“So you took the money. How much did you lose?” Chloe leans closer, while Lucifer backs away.</p><p>“All of it.” Her voice is flat, and another flood of tears slides down her cheeks. “She said that Moira was right. I ruin everything I touch. I just lost it. I don't remember grabbing the hammer. I barely remember giving that tour and pretending to find her body. And here is the worst part: I couldn't bring myself to tell the truth. Even if it meant my own sister going to jail. Maybe Moira was right about me, maybe I do ruin everything I touch.”</p><p>“She <em>was</em> right,” Lucifer sighs heavily, turning for the door. “You should've stayed far away from everyone you cared about.”</p><p>“Lucifer—” Chloe calls after him, but he’s already gone, the door closing after him. She reads Beth her rights and places her under arrest, leading her out to the uniformed officers waiting to take her. She intercepts Moira and the rest of their family, taking them back into the same room to explain to them that Beth had confessed to Megan’s murder, and why. Several hours pass before she can <em>finally</em> take the lift up to the penthouse and track down her truant partner.</p><p>The elevator chimes and she finds him exactly where she knew he would be, situated at the piano and completely engrossed in an emotional rendition of ‘Unforgiven’ that brings tears to her eyes. His suit jacket is tossed across one of the bar stools, one of the sleeves brushing the floor, and his previously immaculately styled hair is a spiky mess where his fingers have been driven through it. A nearly empty decanter of whiskey sits within arm’s reach with a half-full tumbler beside it, and lazy plumes of smoke rise from the cigarette resting in the cluttered ash tray next to them.</p><p>The song crashes to a discordant end and he sits there silently for a moment, hunched over the keyboard as though it’s a lost loved one.</p><p>“My apologies for not staying for the arrest, Detective,” he doesn’t turn to greet her, and his voice is raspy, as though he’s been screaming. Perhaps he has. “It seemed you had it well in hand.”</p><p>She crosses the remaining space between them to sit close beside him on the bench. “Want to talk about it?”</p><p>“You already know, Detective.” If Beth’s voice had been flat, Lucifer’s is <em>desolate</em>.</p><p>“What Michael did—”</p><p>“Michael?” he barks a humorless laugh. “Michael has nothing to do with… with <em>this</em>.”</p><p>“Okay,” Chloe agrees carefully. “If not Michael, then what?”</p><p>“This case wasn’t a retelling of Michael and me, Detective, though I’ll admit at first it looked that way to me.” He pulls in a deep breath, but doesn’t straighten his shoulders, as though braced for a blow. “No, this was another sibling’s story, writ small on this case. Uriel.”</p><p>
  <em>He’s gone from identifying with our victim… to identifying with our murderer. Oh, Lucifer.</em>
</p><p>“How is this case anything like Uriel’s?” she prompts gently, and he stills beside her.</p><p>“One sibling making monumental mistakes, the other calling them out on it and getting brutally murdered for their trouble?” He shakes his head minutely. “Ringing any bells?”</p><p>“Lucifer… that’s not—” she sighs, because she <em>can</em> see it, but only the roughest outline. “Your situation with Uriel was far more dire than Beth’s family finding out she’d misused company funds. Uriel was threatening to kill people you love. Megan was only yelling at her sister for stealing from the company. Beth had multiple other choices she could have made that <em>didn’t</em> result in someone dying. <em>You</em> never tried to hide what happened, and certainly wouldn’t have let anyone else take the consequences for it. You’re <em>not</em> poison, Lucifer, you’re not even <em>Beth</em>.” She tries to meet his eyes, but his are locked on his right hand again, flexed until the knuckles show whitely through his skin. She reaches over and covers it with her own.</p><p>“I killed my little brother. I <em>am</em> a murderer, Detective,” he whispers, and the despair in his voice feels like it could drown the world. She turns to him and rests her hand on his cheek, gently turning his head until his red-rimmed eyes meet hers.</p><p>“So am I.”</p><p>He jerks back, surprised at the vehemence in her tone, but she moves with him, unwilling to let him go.</p><p>“You know it’s true,” she continues ruthlessly, “You’ve <em>seen me do it.”</em></p><p>“In the line of duty, Detective!” he protests, the words falling clumsily from his lips in his haste to defend her. “You were protecting your Offspring!”</p><p>“And you were protecting your mother, and Maze,” her eyes don’t leave his, and she’s relieved to see the moment the light of belief comes alive in them. “And me.”</p><p>He sags against her, like a marionette whose strings are suddenly cut. She holds him to her, supporting him and running her fingers through his hair, stroking his back. He mumbles something against her shoulder and she pulls back a little.</p><p>“Sorry? I didn’t hear you.”</p><p>“It’s a ball in a box, right?” he murmurs again, and she squeezes him tighter.</p><p>“It is,” she confirms. “It hit the button <em>hard</em> today.”</p><p>“I don’t like the button,” he grumbles, and she breathes a laugh into his hair.</p><p>“I don’t like the button, either.”</p><p>They sit that way for a while longer, sharing mutual comfort, before Chloe peels herself away.</p><p>“I need to go in and finish Beth’s booking paperwork. Will you be okay?”</p><p>“I’ll be quite all right,” he assures her, smoothing his shirt with trembling hands. His eyes are red-rimmed, but no tear tracks shine on his chiseled features. “I’ve been piecing myself back together since the dawn of time, Detective, I can manage for a few hours while you handle the boring paperwork, I’m sure.”</p><p><em>Piecing yourself back together to the point where you’re mostly tacky glue and cheap tape,</em> she thinks fondly to herself. <em>But still fighting the good fight</em>.</p><p>“It’s only half past four. I’ll check in with Miss Lopez, and make dinner.” He leans in and brushes a kiss to her forehead. “See you in a few hours?”</p><p>She hums her agreement, and moves for the elevator as Lucifer retrieves his phone from his jacket pocket.</p><p>Two hours later, he returns to the penthouse from delivering dinner to the convalescent forensic scientist to find an agitated Messenger on his balcony.</p><p>“Gabriel?” he calls hesitantly, immediately recognizing the black-streaked tawny wings rustling outside.</p><p>“Lucifer!” Gabriel pushes his fingers into his sandy hair, pushing it back from his wide, hazel eyes. “I have a Message… Father wants to speak with you.”</p><p>*</p><p> “Father,” Raphael breathes in relief when the workshop door finally admits him. <em>“Thank you</em> for permitting an audience, I—”</p><p>“Yes,” God interrupts, freezing the Healer mid-sentence. “I have seen how diligently you have been working to try to learn about My Sword’s condition.”</p><p>“Yes, Father, I’ve exhausted my library,” he admits reluctantly. “Have you any material that can aid me in my search?”</p><p>“I’m afraid you won’t find Michael’s condition in any text, My son,” God replies gently. “His situation is utterly unique, and entirely of his own design.”</p><p>“How can I help him?” the Healer pleads. He hangs his head, ashamed. “I feel as though I have failed in my calling…”</p><p>“Michael <em>could</em> have told you ages ago some of the problems he was having—but he did not. Perhaps you could have found a way to help him.” God smiles down at his humbled son. “But you are not your brother’s keeper, Raphael. While your pride may be taking a beating in this moment, it appears you are learning from it rather than denying the lesson as My Sword has been. I have seen the change in how you have been treating your siblings – all of them. You are becoming a <em>better</em> healer because of this experience, and everyone is benefiting from it.”</p><p>Raphael’s bright green eyes light up in realization as his Father speaks the truth. He <em>had</em> realized the error of his harsh attitude toward siblings, and had been working to make himself more approachable and attentive to their needs.</p><p>“Are you certain there is nothing I can do to help Michael’s healing?” he appeals once more, and God shakes his head sadly.</p><p>“Michael’s choices are his own, and his condition is due entirely to them,” His chocolate brown eyes hold an infinite sadness within their depths. “Michael <em>created</em> the persona he wanted to force Samael into, feeding into his own lies and manipulations. In doing so, he tied himself indelibly to them. Samael chose <em>not</em> to give in to the darkness that Michael tried to cloak him in, his light burns too brightly within the heart of him.” Now the sadness is muted with fierce pride in His estranged son. “Samael would <em>never</em> have accepted the dark petitions and solicitations that pour into Michael’s mind, even <em>before</em> he chose to become Lucifer the Morningstar. If Michael had taken the time and effort to know his brother at all, he would have known this.”</p><p>“We won’t be able to contain him in the Gardens forever, Father…”</p><p>“Fear not, My son,” God pats Raphael’s shoulder, and the Healer relaxes beneath his hand, all trepidation wiped away. “Michael has another choice to make, and soon.”</p><p>Raphael leaves the workshop in a shroud of divinely-inspired peace. Once the door closes behind him, God calls the Messenger.</p><p>“Gabriel, I need you to bring a message to our Lightbringer.”</p><p>*</p><p>Michael watches the Grigori on the walls of the Garden. He paces, talking to himself, knowing they’re listening. Some watch with boredom, some with pity, some with antagonism… he focuses on the most antagonistic Watcher. He remembers training Tamiel—often arrogant, but not unskilled with the blade. Not as good as Michael, of course, but Tamiel had been a show-off that disliked being bested on the training ground. He watches Michael now with nearly unrestrained glee at how far the Sword has fallen.</p><p>Michael paces just under Tamiel’s chosen post atop the walls, chunnering on to himself, knowing Tamiel is listening. He focuses hard enough that the pain in his shoulders fades away to nothing compared to the iron band wrapping his brain.</p><p>“I need a <em>blade</em>,” he mutters softly, focusing solely on <em>Command</em>. “A <em>dagger</em> will do, <em>drop your blade, Tamiel</em>, I need it for a quest.” A metallic objects drops near the wall and Michael’s feral grin spreads across his scarred face. He scoops up the weapon, tucking is securely into the waistband of his trousers. “Now <em>forget, Tamiel… you didn’t carry your dagger today.”</em></p><p>*</p><p>Chloe finishes up her arrest report just after six, and hands it in to the Lieutenant, receiving a gruff, “Nice work, Detective,” and a clean empty crepe container from yesterday morning in return.</p><p>“That partner of yours can definitely cook.”</p><p>“He’s a man of many talents, Lieutenant.”</p><p>“You’re technically off-duty on the roster tomorrow, but you’re on-call as backup if we get overwhelmed. Clear?”</p><p>“Yes, sir.”</p><p>“Then why are you still here?” A glimmer of humor sparks deep in his slate grey eyes and the corner of Chloe’s mouth quirks up in a smile.</p><p>“Because you’ve only just dismissed me, sir.”</p><p>“Evening, Detective.”</p><p>Half an hour later she steps off the lift into the penthouse and finds a winged stranger towering over her partner, who is crumpled on the ground at the base of the wall, as though he’d been thrown there and slid down.</p><p>“LAPD! Don’t move!” She shouts, drawing her weapon before she can even think. Lucifer’s shoulders are shaking, and the unknown angel flares his sand-colored wings in alarm and backs away. “What did you do to him?”</p><p>“It’s all right, Detective,” Lucifer manages, his voice shaking with—laughter? “My brother Gabriel here has just told me a <em>grand </em>joke, that’s all.”</p><p>“Lucifer, you’re okay?” She stands close beside her partner, gun still drawn, but finger off the trigger for now. Not that it will do much against an angel, but it makes her <em>feel </em>better. She fixes her glare on the stranger. “What did you do?”</p><p>“I did nothing, Ms. Decker,” Gabriel’s hazel eyes are wide and honest. “I only delivered the Message.”</p><p>Lucifer starts to laugh harder, painfully. Chloe’s heart twists, because it reminds of his manic, helpless laughter the time he’d tried to goad the police into shooting him when he’d been framed for several Satanic-themed deaths. She nudges him with her knee, trying to jostle him out of his current state.</p><p>“What message?”</p><p>“Oh, what message indeed,” Lucifer hoots, dissolving in laughter again, and both Chloe and Gabriel watch him in concern as he wobbles his way to his feet and moves shakily toward the bar. “Apparently, dear old <em>Dad</em> wants a word with me.”</p><p>“Your dad wants to talk to you?” Chloe’s mind goes blank as Lucifer pours himself a drink and tosses it back, then nods, grimacing. “He’s going to come <em>here?”</em></p><p>“Oh, no, of course not Detective!” Lucifer grumbles, the laughter melting away mercurially. “Good old Gabriel was sent to collect me, to deliver me to Dad like a particularly noxious parcel.”</p><p>“Your dad’s summoning you to <em>Heaven?”</em> Chloe doesn’t let her jaw drop, but her mind starts to spin. On the one hand, this could be a good thing—the beginning of the lift of Lucifer’s banishment. On the other… she doesn’t have good feelings about Lucifer being confronted with his father without someone for support.</p><p>“Mm,” Lucifer confirms, refilling his glass and taking another deep draught.</p><p>“Are you planning to go?” Gabriel makes an undignified squawking noise, and Lucifer laughs again.</p><p>“I’m afraid when Father <em>requests</em> something, His children don’t really have a choice, love.” His dark eyes meet hers, and she reads the uncertainty there.</p><p>“Okay,” she says slowly, ignoring the hive of angry wasps that’s suddenly come to rest in her stomach. “When are we going?”</p><p>“Detective—”</p><p><em>“We??”</em>  Both angels start to speak at once, but silence reigns when Chloe holds up her hand.</p><p>“Yes, <em>we</em>,” she aims that at Gabriel, which just a touch of venom. “I’m not letting him go alone, and I’m <em>sure</em> your father already knows that.” The Messenger starts to argue and she cuts him off again. “If you try to leave me behind, I <em>will follow you</em>.”</p><p>“You would need someone to bring you, and I <em>know</em> none of my siblings would dare—”</p><p>“Would I?” Chloe closes her eyes, appealing to the thrumming light within her and Gabriel gasps, stuttering into silence as spectral wings burst from her shoulders, crystalline feathers spread wide. She opens her eyes, and they burn crimson as they meet his. A clattering noise comes from the bar and her gaze darts to Lucifer, who looks wonderingly at her as though both his very best dream and his worst nightmare have simultaneously come true. She steps closer to Lucifer and asks again, “Now, <em>when do we leave?”</em></p><p>“Ah, I think Gabriel was aiming for <em>now,</em> Detective.” The red fades from her eyes as the palm of Lucifer’s hand gently brushes against the small of her back, carefully <em>not</em> touching the ghostly appendages protruding from her shoulders. The sandy-haired angel clears his throat and nods, seemingly struck speechless by the prismatic wings’ unexpected appearance. Lucifer leans closer, bringing a calming hint of his cologne and whiskey, and whispers in her ear, “Well done, Detective, you’ve effectively muted the Messenger.”</p><p>Gabriel startles and narrows his eyes at Lucifer, who merely grins cheekily back and rolls his shoulders, unfurling his own gleaming wings with nothing more than a slight grimace of pain from the healing wound. “Are you certain you want to come, Detective? You already know what a bore my father can be—”</p><p>“I’m going with you.” Her eyes don’t leave his, and the worry in them is somewhat dampened by the light of pride at her refusal to back down.</p><p>“I thought that would be the case, but you know I had to ask, darling.” The corner of his mouth turns up in a small smile. “I do think you can leave the firearm behind, though. I <em>really</em> shouldn’t be tempted that way.”</p><p>Chloe snorts, and Gabriel looks scandalized.</p><p>“If you’re ready, Lucifer?” he sniffs.</p><p>“After you, brother,” Lucifer gestures out to the balcony, offering his elbow to his Detective. When they pass the doors, he guides her to stand facing him, gathering her close and tucking her head under his chin. “Hold tightly, Detective, I’ll guide you in the transfer.”</p><p>“Okay,” she tips up to whisper in his ear, “Don’t you dare drop me.”</p><p>“I <em>never</em> would,” he assures her, and his arms pull her closer. She feels his chest expand in a deep breath, and she follows his example. “Here we go.”</p><p>She squeezes her eyes shut, expecting a similar experience to her slightly traumatic entrance to the Hell plane, but all she feels is a slight popping of her eardrums and a slight sensation of wobbly legs. Lucifer’s body tenses against her, and she pulls her face slowly from the hollow of his neck, craning her neck up toward the brightness in the sky.</p><p>“Oh, my…”</p>
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<a name="section0037"><h2>37. Just a Few Billion Years</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe isn’t sure what she expected Heaven to look like, but she’s pretty sure she didn’t quite expect this.</p><p>In the sky above them is an <em>enormous</em> white… star? It doesn’t look like Earth’s sun, but it throws a cool, shimmery light that bathes the landscape below in silvery brilliance more intense than the brightest full moon. The sky beyond it is a dark, velvety blue, and dotted with more stars than Chloe has <em>ever</em> seen in the sky before. Towers upon towers create a mountainous cityscape in the very near distance, and though she can’t really tell what color they truly are, with the starlight beaming down, they appear—</p><p>“The Silver City,” she muses to herself, “you guys don’t have a lot of creativity when you’re naming things, do y—Lucifer?” She turns, expecting to find her partner smirking at her reaction, but instead finds him on his knees, bracing himself with his right hand on the ground while the other grips the back of his head painfully, his wings mantled protectively around him. She drops down beside him. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>He doesn’t answer, but she can feel him trembling beneath her hand on his hunched back. She glares up at Gabriel accusingly, but he’s watching his brother with concern in his shadowed eyes.</p><p>“He’ll be all right, Ms. Decker,” Gabriel’s voice is light and soft, nothing like Lucifer’s dulcet tones, or Amenadiel’s steady baritone. He doesn’t seem to have an accent, and Chloe wonders vaguely if that has anything to do with him being the Messenger—maybe his voice just sounds ordinary to anyone that hears it, so only the Message is heard, not the Messenger himself. She shakes off the thought and focuses on her partner, who is trying to pull further into himself as she watches. “It’s just a reaction to the ambient divinity, he’ll adjust in a few moments.”</p><p>Lucifer groans and his wings flare brightly as they fold around him protectively. She feels an answering burst within her chest and her own wings, and strangely from the star above them. She bends over him, wrapping her own spectral wings over and around him, feeling his body heaving with each labored breath. The heavenly sentinel pulses in time with his breathing, and Chloe twists her face up to watch, puzzled. Gabriel notices.</p><p>“It is the Star of the Morning,” he explains diffidently, “greeting its Creator for the first time in eons.”</p><p>“The… Morning Star?” Chloe’s eyes shine with a film of silver-blue tears as her gaze travels from the beautiful ball of light above to her shuddering partner cradled in her arms. “Let there be light?” she whispers to him, and she feels him gathering the strength to rise. She pulls back, helping him kneel upright. He settles, resting on his shins as his head tilts to the sky, his face bathed in the soft glow of the star <em>he</em> created. His eyes open and Chloe catches her breath as they shine silver. She only relaxes when his gaze meets hers and they’re the same warm brown eyes she knows and loves.</p><p>“And there was light,” he murmurs, a small, proud smile crossing his face. “Apologies, Detective, I… it’s been a while since I’ve been exposed to this much divinity at once.”</p><p>“A while?” she smirks at him, standing and holding out a hand.</p><p>“Just a few billion years,” he admits nonchalantly, accepting her hand though he manages to rise without her help. He doesn’t let go once he’s standing, and she threads her fingers through his. “From <em>my</em> perspective, anyway. Perhaps not quite as long here.” His right hand moves to his left shoulder, scratching carefully, and Chloe swats it away.</p><p>“Don’t scratch it, you’ll make it bleed again!” She peels back his jacket with her free hand, making sure he hasn’t broken the scab again.</p><p>“It’s quite all right, Detective, it will likely be entirely healed by the time we leave here.”</p><p>“Wh—seriously?”</p><p>“It’s entirely possible,” Gabriel observes. He’d been watching their interaction, non-plussed, but now he needs to rein it in and escort them to his father. “Lucifer is a magnet for Light, and while he is here, that includes healing. Shall we go, brother?”</p><p>“As there’s obviously no avoiding it, we may as well,” Lucifer sighs heavily as Gabriel leads the way, and Chloe’s right wing stretches of its own accord to brush against his back in support. He looks back in surprise, smiling in wonder. “Your wings are nearly as white as mine are in this light, Detective, look.”</p><p>She glances back in surprise, finding that of course he’s right… the silvery light of the Morning Star above is reflecting from her crystalline, incorporeal feathers, making them appear a translucent white. “Well, I suppose that makes sense,” she ponders quietly, “they <em>do</em> come from your divinity, too.”</p><p>“Yours now, darling,” he confides sweetly, “you’ve managed to do much more with it so far than I ever had. Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” She cocks a curious eyebrow at him and he chuckles, “If you can make <em>me</em> listen to you, wrestling my former divinity into line must be a piece of cake.”</p><p>Chloe’s laughter echoes across the peaceful space, and Gabriel turns back in surprise, watching the pair move toward him hand-in hand. He leads them through the Silver City proper, and Chloe takes in everything with wide, wondering eyes. The argent towers stretch high into the deep, velvety blue of the sky, and the silence is unnerving to Chloe, who’s lived her life with the ever-present background noise of Los Angeles.</p><p>“Where are the people?” she asks in a carrying whisper. “Why is it so quiet?”</p><p>“It’s often quiet here,” Lucifer’s voice rumbles, “or at least, that’s how I remember it before I was cast out. When I was young, we used to sing, and our voices would echo throughout the city, the harmonies overlapping…”</p><p>“That… sounds like it was beautiful.”</p><p>“It was,” he smiles at her sadly. “But that stopped when Mum and Dad started fighting, and this… stifling silence moved in.”</p><p>“And your dad really threw your Mom into Hell after you?”</p><p>“Oh, she didn’t arrive until millennia later.”</p><p>“Did she—” Chloe trails off, not wanting to open <em>more</em> wounds than he’s already dealing with simply by being here.</p><p>“Go on, Detective, ask your questions.” He squeezes her hand in his.</p><p>“Did she ever apologize? Or… or tell you why she didn’t speak up for you?”</p><p>“Apologies…” Lucifer hesitates, his dark eyes roaming the empty street. “Apologies aren’t really something that we <em>do</em> in my family… at least, not Mum and Dad. She did explain—in a manner of speaking.”</p><p>“Will you tell me?”</p><p>“She… she said she talked my father <em>into</em> sending me to Hell.” At Chloe’s horrified expression, he continues trying to explain. “She said He was so angry that He had been planning to destroy me entirely, to <em>Unmake </em>me, but she convinced Him to <em>only</em> banish me to Hell.”</p><p>“Lucifer…” they walk silently, following Gabriel without speaking for a while before she recalls something half-forgotten from her first conversation with God. “That’s not what He told me.”</p><p>“Oh?” Lucifer manages to only sound mildly curious, as though she’s discussing a slightly-interesting detail about a case, but his body is tense as a piano wire beside her.</p><p>“He told me…” she thinks carefully, trying to remember that conversation from a few months ago as closely as possible, “that He had intended for you to set up and rule Hell for a time, but when He tried to send you, you didn’t <em>want </em>to go, so He let you stay longer than He’d originally planned. He said that He used your rebellion as the reason to send you down there, without feeling like you were being punished for loving Him, for wanting to stay. But He did tell me that your banishment wasn’t supposed to be permanent.”</p><p>“You’d told me most of that as I was recovering, I think, Detective. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Mum had lied to me… or probably even the last time she’d lied. But…here we are, walking in the Silver City,” he scoffs bitterly. “A paltry few billion years is nothing to Him, I suppose. Kind of Him to wait so long to inform me that I was no longer <em>needed</em> in Hell.”</p><p>“I asked Him about that, too…” Chloe remembers suddenly. “He said that… you hadn’t found your home yet. That you’d never really felt like <em>this</em> was your home, but that you’d found it in LA.”</p><p>“With you,” he whispers wonderingly, and his voice reflects softly back to them from the surrounding buildings. “You told me He wanted me to choose happiness.”</p><p>“Have you?” she wonders, looking up into his dark eyes. <em>“Are</em> you?”</p><p>“I am,” he assures her, his smile glinting in the bright starlight. “I told Azrael as much when she collected me to take me to Limbo. Now… if we can just get my family to leave us <em>alone</em> for a bit…”</p><p>Chloe looks ahead and finds Gabriel shooting suspicious glances at them over his shoulder. She laughs to herself and rests her cheek against Lucifer’s bicep.</p><p>“Share the joke, Detective? I could use the distraction.” Their footsteps echo back to them along the deserted street.</p><p>“It’s only… sometimes I still get these <em>‘how is this my life?’ </em>moments,” she admits honestly, still chuckling. “I’m spending my Sunday evening strolling down a street in Heaven on my way to a chat with God with my incredible devil of a boyfriend, while his archangel brother shoots us scandalized looks over his shoulder… and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”</p><p>“You’re truly extraordinary, you know,” He remarks off-handedly, “I’m not entirely certain how I managed to exist so long without you.”</p><p>“Well, you’re stuck with me now,” she presses close to him and he wraps his arm around her shoulders, carefully avoiding her wings. “You know that, right?”</p><p>“I—”</p><p>“We’re here,” Gabriel’s soft voice drifts back to them, and they see he’s stopped in front of the tallest tower they’ve seen yet. He raps on the gleaming door and steps back, turning to them. “I don’t know if Father will allow you into the tower, Ms. Decker…”</p><p>“I think He will,” Chloe replies confidently, and Lucifer snickers, but turns it into a cough when she elbows him gently in his uninjured side. “Will He keep us waiting long?”</p><p>“Dad’s never been great about keeping to a schedule,” Lucifer remarks impudently, then lifts his eyebrows innocently at Gabriel. “Or has that changed since I’ve been gone, brother?”</p><p>Gabriel glowers, but shakes his head with a small smile. “Father keeps to His own schedule.</p><p>“So, what he’s saying is that we may have some time to kill, Detective.” He gazes up to the top of the tower, a small frown playing on his lips. “Gabriel, were you sent to escort us, protect us from the curious masses, or guard us?”</p><p>“Er,” The Messenger hesitates. “Father asked me to escort you.”</p><p>“Lovely,” Lucifer purrs. “Would you mind giving us some privacy, then? We solemnly swear not to manage any mischief whilst we’re here.”</p><p>Gabriel lingers for a moment, his mouth opening as though he’s about to speak, but then he turns and walks away. He gets about ten paces before he whirls back to face them with a warm smile.</p><p>“Welcome back, brother. Welcome <em>home.</em>” He turns again and he’s away in a flash of barred feathers before Lucifer can formulate a proper response.</p><p>“Well,” he pulls in a deep breath, eyes fixed on the spot Gabriel had been. “That was… unexpected.”</p><p>“You mean the welcome, or that he left us alone here?”</p><p>“Yes,” Lucifer replies simply, and his gaze moves back to her as she chuffs a laugh. He gestures to a padded bench that had definitely <em>not</em> been there a moment ago. “Would you care to sit while we wait?”</p><p>“What—?"</p><p>“This is Heaven, darling, and I <em>am</em> the Will,” Lucifer smirks at her. “Heaven answers to whims and wishes, and I desired a comfortable place to await Dad’s judgement.”</p><p>“Is that what you think this is going to be? Judgement?”</p><p>“No way to know until He’s done speaking, He prides Himself on being bloody inscrutable,” he grumbles, but his eyes wander back up to the top of the tower again, and she thinks she sees wistfulness there.</p><p>Her eyes wander around the empty courtyard and a heavy feeling settles in her stomach. Dreading the answer, she asks, “Lucifer… is this… where—?"</p><p>“Hm?” He pulls himself out of his reverie and follows her gaze. “Oh! No, that wasn’t here. The ultimate battle between good and evil took place outside of Dad’s workshop.”</p><p>“As long as you’re referring to Michael as the evil one in that scenario, I’ll let that description stand,” she glowers at him for a moment, and he chuckles.</p><p>“Ooh, speaking of your rather effective glare, that reminds me, Detective, I have a question for you,” he shrugs his wings away and seats himself on the bench, and she comes to sit close beside him. “I… don’t want to worry you, but… have you noticed anything odd about your eyes lately?”</p><p>“My eyes?” her brows crease in confusion. “No? Why?”</p><p>“I… perhaps I shouldn’t say anything, but…” he studies her for a moment before he continues, “when you introduced your wings, when you were standing up to Gabriel—your eyes sort of… lit up.”</p><p>“Oh!” Much to his surprise, she breathes a sigh of relief. “You mean the red glowy thing?”</p><p>“You knew?”</p><p>“Amenadiel told me about it, he saw them glow when I confronted Michael at Lux the night you woke up.” She smiles up at him, and it lights her eyes with an entirely different kind of glow. “He’s also the one that told me that we’re very similar—both punishers at heart. Maybe that’s why.”</p><p>“I suppose one of the side effects of being <em>that</em> much of a dullard is unexpected bouts of occasional wisdom,” Lucifer muses playfully before sobering. “Truly though, Detective, how much does it bother you?”</p><p>“It… really doesn’t. Though I’ll probably need some pointers on controlling it a little better so I don’t break them out in interrogation.”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t know, I’ve found them to be <em>quite</em> useful as an interrogation tool,” His wicked smile gleams in the bright starlight, and she can’t contain the laughter, though she <em>does</em> try. She leans her head on his shoulder and tilts her face back to watch the brilliant stars dancing in the sky above. “I was just a bit… concerned, after how upset you were when your scars disappeared—"</p><p>She remembers her near-panic-attack on that morning and nods absently. “I guess… it’s harder to surprise me now.”</p><p>“Oh, Detective, you <em>really</em> shouldn’t tempt my father that way,” he chuckles, but it fades too quickly. “And while we’re on that subject, I need you to promise me something.”</p><p>She pulls her gaze away from the expanse of twinkling stars and meets his intense black gaze. “What promise?”</p><p>“If He lets you inside, it’s probably best if you don’t look directly at Him,” he warns gently. “I know you’re divine now—not that you weren’t before, darling—but I don’t know how much He’ll tone down His presence, and I really do prefer you sane and unharmed.”</p><p>“Okay,” she replies slowly, remembering God telling her that his presence could be overwhelming. “What promise, though?”</p><p>“If you start feeling strangely, leave us. Just turn and walk right out the door, Detective, don’t hesitate or look back, just <em>go</em>.” His brows contract in concern, and his eyes shine in the starlight. “I’ll come for you when He’s done with me, but if you start to feel odd or overwhelmed, I need to know that you’ll remove yourself to safety. Please.”</p><p>“Lucifer, I’m <em>not</em> going to just <em>leave you</em>—”</p><p>“And yet, m’dear, that’s exactly what I’m asking of you,” he interrupts softly. “If I can’t be absolutely certain that you’re safe… then I can’t guarantee my behavior when we get in there. I need to be able to trust that you will protect <em>yourself</em> first, because <em>you</em> are the only thing I could not bear to lose.”</p><p>“I can’t—”</p><p>“Chloe, <em>please</em>,” the plea is so soft she nearly misses it, but it cuts off her train of thought like one of Maze’s blades. He leans in and rests his forehead against hers, eyes closed and body tense. “If not for me, then think of your Spawn, she needs her mother.”</p><p>“That’s not fair,” she quavers, and grasps his hand tightly in hers.</p><p>“I never said I was <em>fair</em>,” he points out relentlessly, “in fact, I hope I’ve made it quite clear that I will work to <em>protect you</em> no matter the cost, yes? I only ask for you to leave if you’re affected negatively by my father’s presence, darling. He’s got no reason to harm me now, I’ll be fine. Gabriel’s message was only that He wanted to talk. So… promise me?”</p><p>“I don’t want you to have to be alone with him,” she tries one more evasion and he huffs a laugh, moving to press a kiss to her temple.</p><p>“And I appreciate that you’ve been brave and stubborn enough not only to retrieve me from Hell, but also to follow me to Heaven in your quest to protect me,” he pulls her into a tight embrace and her spectral wings mantle protectively around them. “But… Chloe, in addition to needing to know you’re safe, I also need to know that you’ll trust <em>me</em> to see myself through this if I need to. That you believe I <em>can</em>.”</p><p>“Of <em>course</em> you can!” she pulls back defensively, but not too far. “Lucifer, of course you <em>can </em>handle this alone… I just don’t want you to <em>have to</em>.”</p><p>“I’ve no objection to you remaining at my side as long as you’re unaffected by His presence,” he allows, “but I’ll still ask you to promise me you’ll leave if you <em>are.</em> Affected, that is.”</p><p>“All right, I promise.” she agrees reluctantly, and the smile of relief that lights his face rivals the brilliance of his star above. She casts around for a change of subject. “You never answered my question, earlier.”</p><p>“Which one is that, darling?”</p><p>“Where <em>is</em> everyone?”</p><p>“Ah, yes,” He nods, looking around the silent courtyard. “Most souls here stay in their loops—”</p><p>“Loops?” Chloe gasps, appalled. “Heaven has loops?  Like Hell?”</p><p>“Well, sort of the opposite of Hell, really, but much the same concept,” he muses. “These are <em>reward</em> loops. Souls here don’t feel that they deserve punishment, so <em>these</em> loops are all… oh, endless picnics on sunny Thursday afternoons, or basking on beaches, a spectacular night out at the opera… or a quiet night in playing boardgames with family.” He pulls away from their embrace and smiles down at her, and it’s so filled with love that she can’t help but return it. She slips her hand into her pocket and closes around the tiny shoe token she still carries, noticing that his hand brushes over the waistcoat pocket that he keeps <em>his</em> token in. “Whatever they like. They can change them whenever they like, and they’re not cut off from other souls. They can cross to other loops whenever they have the desire to do so.”</p><p>“But none of it is real?”</p><p>“I suppose it depends on the loop,” he shrugs, glancing at the door next to them. “Some people might prefer to live entirely in their memories, while some people might prefer their own fantasy of happiness and fulfillment. I believe those insipid books your offspring is so fond of say something like… ‘Just because it’s happening inside your head, doesn’t mean it isn’t real’?”</p><p>“Hmm,” Chloe glances around at some of the other buildings suspiciously, but doesn’t comment further. “So what is <em>this</em> place, then?  Why this tower?”</p><p>“This is Dad’s… Audience Chamber, is a good term for it, I suppose. He doesn’t use it often, usually for family meetings… or at least that’s what I remember. It’s possible that that’s changed now.”</p><p>“Do things change often here?”</p><p>“No,” he laughs at the question outright. “I told the Urchin once that celestials don’t change much, and the same is true for the Silver City. It might be why I got so <em>bored</em> here and started making friends with Dad’s new project.”</p><p>“What, humans?”</p><p>“Mmhm,” he hums, amused. “Adam wasn’t much to brag about, but Lilith was kind, and they were <em>new</em>, and they were <em>always </em>trying and learning new things. Then Lilith was banished and Eve was created…” he trails off, tracing his fingers over his ring. Chloe’s already heard that story. He grins and adds, “Well. Perhaps I just thrive on chaos.”</p><p>“There’s no <em>perhaps</em> in that sentence, Lucifer,” she laughs, “You might actually <em>be</em> Chaos.”</p><p>“Oh, no my dear, I assure you, Chaos is a different order of being altogether,” She looks up to find a familiar, kind-eyed face smiling down at her.</p><p>“Well, Dad,” Lucifer drawls, though he sounds as though the breath has been knocked out of him. “How kind of you to grace us with your presence.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. You Always Have a Choice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe watches Lucifer carefully, mindful of his request <em>not</em> to look at his father directly. He meets his father’s eyes squarely with his mask of nonchalance firmly in place, but she thinks he’s paler than normal—though admittedly it’s a bit difficult to tell with the silver light of his star streaming down over them. She grips his hand tightly in hers, and he squeezes back gently in reassurance.</p><p>“Lucifer,” God greets His son warmly, and Chloe feels a tiny amount of tension drain from him at his father’s use of his <em>chosen</em> name. “Thank you for coming to speak with Me. And Chloe,” He turns to greet her and she smiles, but keeps her eyes on her partner, “you needn’t worry about Lucifer, <em>or</em> your well-being in my Presence, I’ve accommodated for you since I knew you wouldn’t want to let him out of your sight.”</p><p>“Thank you,” she murmurs, relieved.</p><p>“I wasn’t aware that I had a choice,” Lucifer scoffs at the same time.</p><p>“You <em>always</em> have a choice, Lucifer,”</p><p>“Hmm,” the sound is halfway between an acknowledgement and a growl, and Chloe notices his upper lip twitching in an aborted snarl. His jaw clenches and he pulls in a deep, steadying breath as she brushes her wing supportively against his shoulder. “What is it that You needed to talk about badly enough to bloody drag me here?”</p><p>“Would you like to come inside?” God steps back, gesturing invitingly to the open door behind Him. “We’ll have less chance of being interrupted.”</p><p>Lucifer nods shortly, sweeping to his feet. As they pass, Chloe notices that he’s taller than the form his father has chosen, and wonders if that was a conscious choice on God’s part. He’s dressed in the same ivory jumper and trousers that she remembers from her previous discussions with Him, His deep brown skin glowing in the starlight.</p><p>“Your wings are beautiful, Chloe, I see you’ve opted for the economical model.” He smiles at her as she passes.</p><p>“Thanks. Flying was never something I’ve been interested in… I only need to be able to go wherever Lucifer is.”</p><p>“A worthy goal,” he closes the door behind them and Chloe’s eyes are drawn up, and up, and up. </p><p>“He likes the acoustics,” Lucifer murmurs in her ear, noticing the direction her gaze had wandered.</p><p>She’d thought the tower would have many levels, but instead what she finds is a circular chamber with a ceiling extending all the way up to the open sky above. She glances around, expecting… something. A throne, maybe, or a dais. What she finds are pearly white walls, and some squashy deep blue furniture in the middle of the room set for easy conversation.</p><p>God leads them to the grouping, and Lucifer settles on the little couch, crossing his legs casually at the knee. Chloe pauses for a moment, and focuses on folding her wings away before she sits close beside him.</p><p>“You managed that very well, Chloe,” God observes politely.</p><p>“Lucifer is a very good teacher,” she smiles as she takes Lucifer’s hand in hers.</p><p>“To answer your question, Lucifer,” God follows her gaze and turns His focus to His wayward son, “I wanted this visit for a few reasons—First, Phanuel has been doing a marvelous job at spreading the truth and battling the misconceptions caused by Michael’s lies. The Host knows the true story now, and resistance to the lifting of your banishment has dwindled to practically nothing. I would like to make a Grand Pronouncement, but wanted you to have a brief visit first, to… reacclimate.”</p><p>“How very thoughtful of You. Culture shock is rather unpleasant,” Lucifer grumbles, running his hand down his lapel with a wince, straightening imaginary wrinkles.</p><p>“I would like to invite you—<em>both</em> of you—to be here when I make the announcement,” God continues, and Chloe feels Lucifer vibrating with tension next to her. “I will also make it known that Chloe is to have visiting rights whenever she chooses. That should give your siblings time to further adjust to the idea of a human—albeit one with divinity—having access to Heaven before your visits start in earnest.”</p><p><em>Before everyone we know starts dying, he means,</em> Chloe thinks to herself wryly. <em>It makes sense. If things here really are as slow to change as Lucifer seems to believe they are… they’re gonna need that time to let it sink in.</em></p><p>“We’ll consider it,” Lucifer glances sideways at Chloe as he acknowledges the invitation. “We’ll need some warning, I can’t just sweep the Detective away at a moment’s notice.”</p><p>“Simple enough to arrange,” God agrees mildly. “I’ll send a Message.”</p><p>“Right,” Lucifer says briskly, making as if to stand. “Well, this little chat’s been lovely, but we really should be going—"</p><p>“Wait, please,” God holds up a hand tentatively, and Lucifer flinches back for a moment as though expecting a blow. He recovers so quickly that Chloe nearly questions what she saw, but then he’s angling himself so that his body is between her and his father. A flash of regret crosses God’s face. “Lucifer, I did not wish for this visit to be a source of stress for you, but I do think we should speak for a little while longer before you return to your home.”</p><p>“Well, it’s not as though You can’t stop me from leaving,” Lucifer growls, “What exactly do You think we need to discuss?”</p><p>“I know you’re angry with Me, son,” the muscles in Lucifer’s jaw flex and release, and Chloe can <em>feel</em> the massive effort he’s putting into <em>not</em> releasing the diatribe that he’s no doubt been working on for thousands of years. God continues, “You <em>have</em> been very up front about exactly how furious you’ve been… and I hope that some of that has lessened, now that you know that I have <em>not</em> been manipulating you as you’d feared.” God gazes at His son hopefully, but Lucifer sits in stony silence, eyebrows lifted. His father sighs, nods. “I can’t apologize for sending you to organize Hell—that was part of your Purpose, after all. However, I find that… I do <em>regret</em> allowing Michael to decide the method of your introduction to that plane. I did not foresee his cruelty, and I should have.”</p><p>“Really,” his voice is steady, if a little strangled. Lucifer’s breath freezes in his lungs and his stomach enters free-fall, flipping and tumbling over itself and the rest of his internal organs. None of his inner turmoil reflects in his set expression of indifference, but his eyes burn with viciously restrained tears of rage that he will not allow to show. “That’s the best You can do? You have a qualm or two about my siblings pinning me down and beating me until my wings were broken and bloody <em>before</em> they cast me into the flames? You <em>regret</em> allowing Your Sword to launch me into Hell with the force of a bloody <em>meteor</em> so the Hellfire could consume me for centuries before I could heal enough to crawl my way free of the crater?”</p><p>“I’ve watched him more closely since that day,” God admits, and Chloe would swear she suddenly has a faint whiff of blood when Lucifer exhales tightly, making her wonder if he’s literally biting his tongue to keep from screaming at his father. “He’s planning something further, Lucifer, and I won’t stop him—<em>you</em> know that free will is not something to be tampered with.”</p><p>“How did this situation even happen?” Chloe bursts out, unable to keep silent any longer. “How is that an <em>archangel</em> managed to go absolutely bat-shit <em>insane</em> and no one noticed??”</p><p>“Just as Lucifer’s Will and Gift melded and manifested in an unexpected way, so too did Michael’s Darkness and Power.” God sighs, rubbing the bridge of His nose in a manner that reminds Chloe strongly of Lucifer. “He began to resent his duties, not unlike how Lucifer resented knowing he would need to be sent to Hell for a time. Michael became envious of Lucifer’s seeming lack of responsibilities, and the ease with which he was loved by everyone.”</p><p>“Lack of responsibilities!” Lucifer explodes, launching to his feet and starting to pace. <em>“Every</em> tiny disagreement came to <em>me</em> for arbitration! I helped the later generations with their lessons, distracted and cheered them when you and Mum were fighting, and as to being <em>loved</em>, well we all know exactly how much that’s worth when every last one of them—”</p><p>“I know, son,” God cuts in, and Lucifer stops and whirls to face Him, taken aback. “You kept yourself busy enough being useful that I was able to justify <em>not</em> sending you away. And you still managed to find time to make friends with the humans.” God’s expression softens, and there is such pride and sadness in His expression that Chloe has the urge to avert her eyes. “Michael’s choices affected your path in ways I never would have chosen for you, Lucifer, but I want you to know how very <em>proud</em> I am of the being you’ve become by walking it. You—”</p><p>“No.” The word cleaves through whatever God was about to say with finality of an axe on the scaffold. Chloe’s gaze flies to Lucifer’s pale face, and yes, she can see blood on his lip where he’d been chewing it in an effort to contain whatever he’s about to unleash. She tightens her grip on his trembling hand, giving support. “No, you don’t get to claim <em>pride</em> in me. <em>Nearly everything</em> I am today, certainly everything I’ve <em>done</em>, or <em>become</em>… <em>is because of me.</em> My actions and accomplishments are <em>mine</em>, not Yours to claim or denounce as You see fit.”</p><p>“Lucifer,” Chloe whispers gently, but the dam is broken, and the flood will not be diverted. The pain in his mahogany eyes and the slightest quiver in his voice renders her incapable of interrupting him. He needs to let this poison out, or he’ll never be able to fully heal.</p><p>“You created me because You needed me to complete a set of tasks. I have done them, and now our deal is fulfilled. You got Your universe, Your light, <em>Your</em> Hell, and Your…” His voice breaks, but his glare does not. “Your love. I have been ostracized, vilified, hunted, beaten, <em>burned</em>, and bathed in so much fear and hatred for so long that I’d convinced myself that I didn’t deserve to be happy, to be <em>loved. </em>I’ve nearly lost my chance at happiness so many times, but now! Now… <em>I</em> get my existence, to live as <em>I</em> see fit, on whichever plane I so choose to exist upon. You are my Creator, but <em>You</em> are not a father. In my time on Earth I have seen the guidance and care and patience and understanding and… and <em>bloody love</em> that goes into good parenting,” his grip tightens on Chloe’s hand and she returns the pressure, her light expanding in her chest in a brilliant flash of warmth. “You offer none of those qualities, and I hereby declare myself free of the <em>shackle</em> of considering myself Your son.”</p><p>The silence in the room rings ominously, broken only by Lucifer’s shuddering breaths. God’s expression doesn’t change, still filled with fierce pride and sadness, but He slowly bows His dark head in acknowledgement of Lucifer’s painful declaration.</p><p>“If you try to restrict me from seeing my friends and family by barring me—” He continues hotly, but God raises His hand again. This time Lucifer does not flinch.</p><p>“I will not restrict your access to any plane you wish to visit, Lucifer,” He replies quietly. “I understand how deeply your justifiable resentment runs. I will still make the announcement to the Host, and I do hope that you and Chloe will both attend the celebration to welcome you back. I will send a Message with the date and time.”</p><p>Lucifer nods an acknowledgement and, with a quick glance at Chloe, stalks to the door without another word. Once outside he unfurls his wings and opens his arms, and she loses no time stepping into his embrace.</p><p>“I am so <em>proud</em> of you,” she murmurs into his shoulder and his arms tighten around her. The Star of the Morning flares brightly above as its creator crosses the Boundary back to Earth… back <em>home.</em></p><p>In the tower, God sits in his chair, head bowed. He had known this was coming, but He had failed, somehow, to anticipate exactly how <em>painful</em> it would prove to be.</p><p>*</p><p>Lucifer lands gently on his balcony, but neither releases the other. Chloe can feel his heart pounding beneath her cheek, his labored breaths roaring in her ear.</p><p>“Hey,” she pulls back to be able to look at him, and sees that his face is tipped up to the sky, glaring daggers at the waning moon as though daring it to say something. She removes one hand from his waist and slides it up to grip the back of his neck, gently pulling him down so she can rest her forehead against his. His wings slowly fold around them, enveloping them in warmth and iridescence. “It’s okay. You were amazing back there.”</p><p>“I could have destroyed everything we’ve been working for—”</p><p>“But you <em>didn’t</em>.” She presses a gentle kiss to his bloody lips. “You held yourself together and you said nothing more or less than He deserved to hear from you. And… I’m really glad we left as quickly as we did, because I had plenty that <em>I</em> wanted to say… and I’m sure it would not have been received well.”</p><p>He huffs a surprised laugh and presses a kiss to her crown, then pulls back and folds his wings away. “Thank you for going, and <em>staying</em> with me, Detective. <em>I</em> am sure it would have gone far worse had you not been there.”</p><p>“I wasn’t about to let you go through that alone,” they cross the threshold into the sitting room, and Lucifer heads for the bar. Chloe shakes her head at his lifted eyebrow, and he pours himself two fingers of whiskey.</p><p>“My apologies, Detective, but I haven’t yet had a chance to see to our dinner. Would you like to order out for some burgers and fries?”</p><p>“That sounds <em>perfect</em>.”</p><p>Lucifer places the order while Chloe retrieves her phone from where she’d left her belongings on the bar. She looks at her alerts, three missed calls from her mother. No messages, of course. Penelope would rather call a dozen times than leave a single message to give Chloe a clue what she was getting herself into when she calls back. She glances over Lucifer, who is still placing their delivery order, and hits the contact.</p><p>“Chloe!” Penelope carols gaily, “I didn’t expect you <em>actually</em> call me back! Not so soon, anyway.”</p><p>“You called three times in 20 minutes, Mom, I figured it might be important.” Chloe rolls her eyes. <em>And she wonders </em>why<em> I’m usually reluctant to call her back.</em> “Did you need something?”</p><p>“Can’t I just call to have a chat with my daughter?”</p><p>“Of course you can, Mom, but… you never do.” Chloe says honestly, and Penelope scoffs.</p><p>“Honey, you were shot just a few weeks ago, by your ex-husband no less!” Penelope cranks up the ‘caring mother’ tone, and Chloe fights to keep from rolling her eyes again. “And you’re already back at work, I hear…”</p><p>“Dan didn’t <em>mean</em> to shoot me, he just had too much going on and had a stress breakdown.” That was the story they were going with, anyway. “And I’m <em>fine</em>, got my med clearance and everything.”</p><p>“Are you <em>sure</em> you should go back so soon, sweetie?”</p><p>“Mom, what is this really about? Are you okay?” Chloe sinks down onto the couch, tucking her legs underneath her wearily.</p><p>“It’s just… policework is so dangerous, Chloe, and… I worry about you and Trixie. What if something else happens?” Real emotion bleeds into her mother’s voice.</p><p>“Mom, this injury didn’t even happen while I was working, and I know you worry, but Mom,” she sighs, trying to remind herself that Penelope had lost her husband when Chloe lost her father. “I’m <em>good</em> at my job. Lucifer has my back and we watch out for each other, keep each other as safe as we can.”</p><p>“Yes, and look what happened to dear Lucifer a few short <em>months</em> ago!” Penelope sniffs, and Chloe tenses. “You should really consider coming back to acting, darling, there’s a role coming up that—”</p><p><em>“No</em>, Mom,” Chloe grits her teeth. <em>And here it is</em>. “I <em>like</em> what I do. It’s… important.”</p><p>She feels a warm palm come to rest on her shoulder and tilts her head back to meet Lucifer’s dark gaze. He gives her a smile, and she returns it without hesitation, resting her hand over his.</p><p>“I know it is, sweetie. But you <em>will</em> be careful won’t you? And Lucifer, too?” Chloe wrinkles her nose and Lucifer chuckles behind her. He leans forward and she doesn’t even try to cover the speaker.</p><p>“We’ll take good care of one another, Penelope,” he grins at her, and she narrows her eyes at him playfully. He <em>knows</em> she hasn’t told her mother about their relationship yet.</p><p>“Lucifer!” Penelope practically sings. “I didn’t know you were there!  How are you feeling, handsome?”</p><p>“Quite well overall, darling, thank you for asking,” he purrs, and Chloe rubs her face with her free hand, trying to keep from groaning at the repertoire between her partner and her mother. <em>Though really… he’s an even better buffer than Dan… if also more embarrassing at times.</em> “I heard about that role they passed you over for, I’ve no doubt they’ll be regretting their choice within a matter of weeks.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s so sweet of you to say!” Penelope chirps. “Well, I won’t keep you two on the phone—I didn’t realize you had <em>company</em>, Chloe, you could have waited to call me back—”</p><p>“Yes, so you could call me a dozen more times,” Chloe mutters under her breath, and Lucifer laughs quietly.</p><p>“Sorry sweetie, I missed that—I think your phone cut out?”</p><p>“Um, I said, ‘we hang out all the time’,” Chloe glances at Lucifer, eyebrow raised in inquiry.</p><p>“Yes, you could say we’ve gotten quite close in the past few months,” his slow smile ignites a warmth in her stomach, just as her mother’s shrill exclamation fills her ear.</p><p><em>“Chloe!”</em> she cries excitedly, “Have you two <em>finally</em> started dating? When were you going to tell me!?”</p><p>Chloe closes her eyes and leans into the kiss Lucifer presses to her hair, feeling his laughter in the warm breath that suffuses it. The elevator chimes and he turns to collect their dinner as Chloe fills her mother in on some of the details and promises more at a later date, managing to end the call just as Lucifer finishes setting out their entrees.</p><p>“Nice of you to throw me to the wolves, Lucifer,” she walks up behind him and wraps her arms around his waist, burying her face between his shoulders.</p><p>“Only one wolf, and you were raised by her,” he points out laughingly. “I thought the interrogational eyebrow was asking me if I was okay to tell her about us.”</p><p>“It was,” she sighs and grabs a fry while they’re still hot, popping it in her mouth and humming happily at the tang of salt and grease. “I just wish it was possible to tell her without… having to <em>tell her.</em>”</p><p>“Just wait… we still have to let her know that Dan’s out on bail.” He rests his hands over hers. “Things should settle down soon enough, darling, and we’ll have some time to play catch-up.”</p><p>“I sure hope so.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. Another Glorious Day of Celestial Sessions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Later, after an intense round (okay, <em>three</em> intense rounds) of lovemaking, they lay curled around one other. Their link still thrums quietly between them as they each savor having the other close.</p><p>“What do you think He meant?” Chloe asks finally, unable to stop herself from voicing her concern any longer.</p><p>Lucifer sighs and props his head up with his left hand, the fingers of his right continuing to trace intricate patterns across her bare stomach. He follows her line of thought without hesitation. “Well, clearly my dickhead twin isn’t done plotting yet. Nothing to do about it but wait and see. It’s not as though I was planning on letting my guard down around him, darling.”</p><p>“No, I know that,” she tries to find the right words to explain her anxiety. Her fingers trace over the silvery line of the scar on his left shoulder—he’d been right, it had healed completely during their visit to Heaven. “It’s just… he’ll <em>be</em> here tomorrow for a session with Linda, and… I don’t like it. I don’t want him anywhere <em>near</em> you.”</p><p>“I’m not particularly chuffed at having him in the same room as Linda, even <em>with</em> Amenadiel and Arael on guard,” Lucifer admits. “We’ve agreed that I shouldn’t be in the room, since he’s fixated on me, but I promised Linda I’d be nearby in case I was needed.”</p><p>“I know,” she sighs in frustration. “And without his wings and powers, with Arael and Amenadiel here, there’s really nothing he can do other than just stir shit but… I don’t have to like it.”</p><p>“None of us do,” Lucifer agrees. His fingers linger over the skin where Dan’s bullet had pierced her stomach before he asks tentatively, “Are you ready for our session with Linda tomorrow?”</p><p>“I know she’s not going to take it easy on us,” she acknowledges wryly.  She’s only had a few sessions with Linda, but they’re enough to know she doesn’t pull any punches. “but <em>anything </em>that helps us avoid any more misunderstandings is beyond worth it.”</p><p>“Indeed,” he murmurs, resting his head back on his pillow and rolling onto his back so they’re resting shoulder to shoulder. The bedside lamp casts a golden glow over his bare chest, the planes of his muscles delineated by deep shadows, and she lets her eyes wander appreciatively. “I’m sorry I’m rubbish at this communication lark, Detective, I know it’s frustrating for you.”</p><p>She makes a negative noise in the back of her throat, turning on her right side and propping herself up with an elbow to better see his face. “Communication goes both ways, Lucifer. I have <em>just</em> as much to work on as you do.” The look he gives her is doubtful, and it breaks her heart a little. “It’s true. I’m just as bad as you are about closing myself off when I get scared or insecure, and I still have to keep reminding myself sometimes that you’re <em>not</em> speaking in metaphors.” He snakes his left arm under her and wraps it around her waist, his broad palm resting comfortably at the small of her back as she settles against him. They lay in silence for so long that she’s asleep when he finally speaks.</p><p>“Habits are hard to break,” he murmurs, stroking her back as she nestles into his shoulder, “like lying to yourself.”</p><p>*</p><p>Linda arrives at Lux before 10 AM, fortified with loads of caffeine (<em>“Sorry kiddo,” </em>she’d murmured to her bulging stomach, <em>“you’re gonna have to deal with it… momma’s gonna need this to make it through the day.”</em>) and Extra Strength Tylenol for her second weekly Celestial Monday. She takes the lift up to the penthouse and finds Chloe on the phone, arguing vociferously as Lucifer looks on in amusement.</p><p>“Doctor!” Lucifer hails her cheerfully. “Another glorious day of Celestial sessions, eh?  Have I told you lately how much I appreciate your tireless efforts on our behalf?”</p><p>“I’ve heard it a time or two, Lucifer, but it never gets old,” she smiles up at him, and his grin softens into something warmer.</p><p>“I appreciate your insights and advice far more than I could ever hope to express in mere words or currency, my dear Doctor,” He approaches her with a cup of coffee (unspiked, for once), and presses it into her hands. “But I shall continue to try.”</p><p>“Thank you, Lucifer,” she takes a sip of the coffee, prepared exactly to her taste, “Do we know who all we’re expecting today?”</p><p>“Aside from the Detective and myself, plus our joint session, Daniel is on his way, Eve had mentioned she would like to have a session, and of course <em>Michael</em>.” His lip curls slightly at the name, and she files that away for later. “We’ll wait for Arael to arrive with him, and Amenadiel also plans to be on hand for his session, as extra security. None of us want to risk anything with him.”</p><p>“Understandably so,” Linda agrees readily. She nods toward Chloe, who’s pacing agitatedly on the other side of the room, still arguing. “What’s the story there?”</p><p>“Ah, yes,” Lucifer throws another amused glance over at his partner, who stopped pacing and is literally resting her face in her palm, shaking her head. “There’s a new DA that thinks he knows her job better than she does. She’s… educating him otherwise. I’m proud of her, she’s restraining herself remarkably well, her eyes haven’t lit once.”</p><p>“Oh right… her eyes light up now.” Linda stares at him, startled that she’d managed to forget that little tidbit.</p><p>“Mmhm,” he says absently, a fond look on his face. “Fairly new development, apparently a side effect of her divinity.”</p><p>Chloe disconnects her call and stalks over to the bar where they’re standing, holding her phone in a manner that suggests she would very much like to strangle whoever she was talking to.</p><p>“Is Mr. Phillips having a day, darling?” he asks playfully, and Chloe eyes him balefully.</p><p>“He’ll survive,” she grumbles, “though he may need some ointment for the burn I just gave him.”</p><p>Lucifer cackles delightedly. “Detective, you were magnificent in your rage. And I don’t think you need to worry about your eyes during interrogations—you didn’t light up once.”</p><p>“Oh, really?” a look a relief crosses her face, and he reaches out to rub her back soothingly. “That’s great, thanks for watching, Lucifer. Good morning Linda, thanks for coming.”</p><p>“Of course, of course,” she waves off the thanks. “It’s coming up on 10, though, and since no one else is here yet, do you want to start my day off again, Chloe?”</p><p>She exchanges a glance with Lucifer and nods as they reach a silent accord. “Yeah, that sounds good.”</p><p>“I’ve set up one of the rooms on the level below this one for you to use, Linda. We’ll treat this level as your waiting area for privacy, and when Michael arrives, he can wait on Lux level.”</p><p>“Okay,” Linda pulls in a deep breath, pulling together her professional demeanor. “Ready, Chloe?”</p><p>Chloe stretches up and pecks Lucifer on the cheek, then follows Linda to the elevator. They find the room Lucifer had indicated and get settled, and Linda’s day starts in earnest.</p><p>“Well, another busy week, hm?” Linda leans forward, notebook in her lap. “Start by catching me up?”</p><p>Linda makes mental notes of topics to address as Chloe walks her through a high-level view of the week since their last session.</p><p>“It sounds like Trixie is starting to get comfortable with Dan again,” Linda encourages, and Chloe nods, smiling.</p><p>“Yes, she’s kept in close touch since she went to stay with him on Thursday, but she says he’s trying hard, and she’s doing okay. She checks in with Lucifer even more frequently than with me, I think.”</p><p>“She’s still worried about him, then,” Linda nods understandingly. “And how are you feeling after finding him on the beach, and seeing Lucifer’s face again? And your… <em>déjà vu </em>incident? Have you had any more of them?”</p><p>“His face didn’t bother me at all, I was just <em>so relieved </em>to find him, alive. But… the panic attack or whatever it was, I… had another one the day after the first one,” Chloe admits reluctantly, sharing with Linda the details of how it felt and what seemed to trigger it each time. “It’s like I’ve almost completely swapped roles with Lucifer, now. <em>He’s</em> the one constantly trying to reach out and communicate, and <em>I’m</em> the one pushing him away. I don’t understand how that happened.”</p><p>“It’s hard to remember that there’s been a <em>massive</em> time difference between his experiences and yours, Chloe,” Linda begins carefully. Chloe grimaces at the reminder. “While it’s been a little over three months for you, it’s been so much longer for him, between the time he spent in Hell when you, uh, when <em>he</em> went back to fulfill his promise, then again during his time in Limbo and his… time after that before Amenadiel brought him back. He’s had a <em>lot</em> of time to think about his regrets, and about things he’s learned during his time on Earth. He’s had <em>time</em> to let himself grow, even if it was under less than desirable conditions.”</p><p>“How do I stop pushing him away, Linda?” Chloe asks desperately, tugging at her ponytail. “It hurts us both when I do it, and then he retreats and is afraid to try reaching out again… and I feel even <em>worse</em> when I realize what I’ve done. <em>Again</em>.”</p><p>Linda gazes at her for a long moment, her expression empathetic. “We’ll discuss this more in-depth in your joint session, I think, because I’m sure Lucifer could stand to hear it, too. Habits are hard to break, Chloe, and allowing yourself to be vulnerable after you’ve been hurt is <em>hard. </em>Trust, and time, and love all help, and I know you’re working on all those things together.”</p><p>“We are,” she acknowledges softly. “But what about the panic attacks?”</p><p>“Have you ever experienced panic attacks before, Chloe? I didn’t see that you’d noted them on your questionnaire.”</p><p>“No, never,” she shakes her head firmly. “Although… when I was in Rome I… did notice that sometimes I would become aware and Trixie would just be watching me with this worried expression. So—maybe I did, and didn’t know?”</p><p>“Were you aware of anything then? Fear, anxiety?  Flashbacks?”</p><p>“No, I was just… checked out, I think. Like, completely absent.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Linda hums thoughtfully. “Maybe a dissociative state. Not unheard of after trauma. Have you had any of those since you’ve been back?”</p><p>“None.”</p><p>“Good, that’s good,” the therapist makes some notes on her pad. “So during these two episodes—you were aware of overpowering fear?”</p><p>“Fear, anxiety… guilt…” She nods slowly. “I… I don’t think I can lose him again, Linda. I’m not strong enough.”</p><p>“You're stronger than you think, Chloe, but it’s fortunate then that he’s got his invulnerability back around you, hm?” Linda reminds her gently, then goes over some tips for ways to ground herself and to help manage any future episodes. She has Chloe repeat them back to her, making sure she remembers them accurately. “Teach these to Lucifer, too, so he can help you with them if it happens again, okay?”</p><p>“Okay,” Chloe laughs, but it’s watery, and she sniffles a little. “Now I only have to manage not to mess up the relationship. I’m afraid of hurting him again, Linda.”</p><p>“We’ll touch on this more later during your joint session, okay?” Linda makes another note, and leans forward again, anxious to bring up her next topic of discussion. “Let’s focus on <em>you</em> for now. How are you feeling about your visit to Heaven? Meeting God again… in person this time?”</p><p>“It was… nerve-wracking,” Chloe makes an outward gesture from her temples, indicating her mind being blown. “It’s beautiful there, but unnervingly quiet, and Lucifer was… not quite himself. We didn’t see anyone while we were there except Gabriel, who brought us, and God.”</p><p>“And the conversation? How are you handling that?”</p><p>“God wants us to be there when He announces that Lucifer’s banishment is lifted. He wanted to extend that invitation and give Lucifer the chance to re-adjust to the, uh, Heavenly climate, I guess.”</p><p>“You seem to be handling this remarkably well, Chloe,” Linda observes, tilting her head in inquiry. “But there’s something bothering you.”</p><p>“Heaven… kind of disturbs me a little,” she admits reluctantly. “Lucifer told me a little about it, and I’m not sure what to think.”</p><p>“That’s perfectly okay, Chloe, this is completely new territory for you—for <em>any</em> human, it’s okay to feel a bit lost.”</p><p>“I don’t feel lost, but it just seems… sad. To me, anyway,” she struggles to find the right words to express why Heaven unsettled her so deeply. “Lucifer told me that Heaven has loops, apparently kind of the opposite of Hell loops, where people can either relive their greatest hits, or their fondest fantasies.”</p><p>“That sounds like exactly what most people would think paradise should be, Chloe. You disagree?”</p><p>“I… guess it just feels fake to me?” she shakes her head, unable to articulate her qualms more clearly. “Lucifer used the quote from Harry Potter about it being in your head, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real. Maybe it’s just that… he seemed… sad while we were there. He talked a little about the way it had been before his parents started fighting and he seemed really wistful.” Chloe looks down at the hands clasped tightly in her lap. “I asked Lucifer about his mom, if his mother had ever apologized to him, for not speaking up for him before he was cast out, and he told me that apologies weren’t really something his family <em>does</em>, especially his parents. He was right. During the conversation, God did say that He <em>regrets</em> letting Michael do what He’s done, but he wouldn’t apologize. They’re not the same thing, really.”</p><p>“Mm,” Linda nods slowly, “They stem from the same feeling, but apologies are usually tendered when a regret is acknowledged.”</p><p>“Yeah, that didn’t happen… and I think that’s what fueled Lucifer’s reaction. I think if I hadn’t been there, he… I don’t know what he would have done. He controlled himself so well, Linda, I was <em>so</em> proud of him, but when he told God that He wasn’t his father… I’ve never seen someone so angry, and empty, and <em>relieved</em> all at the same time.”</p><p>“Lucifer told God that He wasn’t his father?” Linda’s jaw drops for a moment before she schools her expression.</p><p>“He acknowledged that He was his creator, but that he’d seen <em>real</em> parents in action here, and God didn’t show any of those qualities, and he was glad to <em>free himself </em>of the shackle of considering himself God’s son.”</p><p>“Woooow,” Linda breathes, and Chloe nods vehemently.</p><p>“And then we left after God assured us that Lucifer and I would still be allowed to visit Heaven, and that He still wanted us to attend the announcement of that fact.” Chloe wipes her eyes and swallows hard. “I was so proud of him, of how he handled that interaction, Linda. I just… wish it hadn’t been necessary.”</p><p>“Do you know when—” Linda’s question is interrupted by her timer, and she sighs in resignation. “Did you have anything else you wanted to discuss during your solo session today, Chloe?”</p><p>“I don’t think so, no.” She stands, rubs her sweaty palms on her thighs.</p><p>“Okay,” Linda nods slowly. “So, work on those grounding techniques if you feel another attack coming on, and we’ll talk more about your other concerns during your joint session later, then.”</p><p>“Thank you, Linda,” Chloe smiles tremulously, “Thank you <em>so</em> much for all your help.”</p><p>*</p><p>Daniel arrives at Lux at half-past 10, after his new routine of cleaning up the batter from Trixie’s most recent attempts at flipping pancakes, followed by more wasted time job searching after Trixie had caught the bus to school. The elevator doors part, and he finds Lucifer standing at the railing on his balcony, nursing a cigarette and a tumbler of scotch. He hesitates at the glass doors, unsure if the other man would welcome his company.</p><p>“Daniel,” Lucifer greets him neutrally, exhaling a plume of smoke, “I would ask you what brings you to the Devil’s door, but I already know it’s Doctor Linda’s excellent skills.”</p><p>“Uh, yeah, I guess so,” Dan laughs self-consciously, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. “It took a little extra time this morning to clean up Trixie’s pancake-flipping attempts.”</p><p>“Is she improving?” Lucifer turns to him with a small smile and a light of mischief in his eyes.</p><p>“Um… not yet. I think she might need some more practice with you?”</p><p>“Happy to oblige,” he chuckles, turning back to overlooking the city below. Dan glances around the apartment, but doesn’t see Chloe.</p><p>“The Detective is having her session with the Doctor,” Lucifer supplies, as though following Dan’s line of thought. “She should be done around 11, and you can take the next one if you like, Doctor Linda doesn’t seem to have a preference of order.”</p><p>“Oh, uh, thanks,” he shifts his weight awkwardly, unsure if he should try to fill the silence or if he should just stay quiet.</p><p>“Please have a seat if you like, Daniel,” Lucifer gestures expansively without looking in his direction, indicating he can choose wherever he likes. “You don’t need to feel obliged to speak with me, I’m certain there are many, many places you’d rather be than here with the Devil.”</p><p>“Actually, I um… I had some things I wanted—needed—to say, but…” he hesitates, but when Lucifer doesn’t fill the silence, he continues. “I… wasn’t sure if you’d even want to hear it.”</p><p>“I’m quite used to hearing things that I don’t want to hear,” Lucifer says quietly, and Dan is suddenly reminded of their encounter on the improv stage a couple of years ago. “May as well have it out, then.”</p><p>“I, um… I needed to thank you. For saving Chloe, when I… when I shot her.”</p><p>“I didn’t do that for you.”</p><p>“No, I know—I know that,” Dan rushes to finish his thought before he loses his nerve, voice shaking. “But you <em>did</em> it, you saved her from me. And you saved her from that poison—and I still don’t know how the Hell you did it—” here Lucifer chuckles dryly, and Dan knows there’s a story there, “and again from Malcolm, and Pierce.” He pulls in a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and Lucifer finally turns to face him, watching him carefully. “Trixie too, of course. I just… Linda asked me to think about some things after last week’s session, and this was something I needed to do.”</p><p>“What, to <em>thank</em> me?” Lucifer lifts an incredulous eyebrow, and Dan wheezes a tense laugh.</p><p>“That, too,” he admits, “but mostly I wanted to let you know that… that I was wrong. I was <em>so</em> wrong, and I let my grief over… over Charlotte and my anger at Pierce—Cain—overwhelm my judgement and I blamed <em>you</em> because… because you were an easy target. You were hurting like I was, and I knew that you wouldn’t <em>really</em> hurt me, but I thought—I’d hoped, maybe—that you might punish me a little, because I felt like I deserved it.”</p><p>“You felt like <em>you</em> deserved to be punished?” A head tilt accompanies the raised eyebrow now, and he raises the cigarette back to his lips, taking in another deep drag and holding it, before releasing a long, curling stream of smoke. Dan remembers briefly that one of the Devil’s titles is ‘Dragon’ before he pushes that thought away.</p><p>“Yeah, I just… I was all twisted up and… I dunno man, I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t. I realized that Charlotte was important to you, too, and that I wasn’t the <em>only</em> one that lost her.” He sinks onto the little chaise, running his fingers through his hair. “So, I wanted to apologize, not only for totally losing the plot and trying to kill you, but also for the way I’ve been treating you since Charlotte was… was killed. You didn’t deserve it, and… you were actually way nicer than I would have been in your shoes.”</p><p>Lucifer simply watches him silently as he sips from his tumbler, and Dan tries not to fidget nervously.</p><p>“You’re truly a mystery, Daniel,” he says finally, as he leans back against the balcony rail. He snuffs out the cigarette and slides his left hand into his pocket. “I knew there was something more to you when you were able to fight the effect Azrael’s blade had on you, but… you do continue to surprise me.”</p><p>“What blade now?” Dan’s brow wrinkles in confusion at this apparent non-sequitur.</p><p>“Ah, yes, you wouldn’t remember that,” Lucifer tilts his head back, thinking. “The case with all the stabbings a couple of years ago or so—the weapon that disappeared was a celestial weapon, extremely dangerous in that it completely obliterated the soul and even more so in that it turns humans into vicious stabbing machines for next to no reason. You were pulled into the blade’s influence, and I was your chosen target… but you—Daniel, you managed to fight it, and I talked you down enough to remove the blade from your possession before it could push you into doing something that <em>I’d</em> certainly regret. Or… well, I suppose I wouldn’t have had a chance to regret it, as I would no longer exist on any plane…”</p><p>“Wait, what?”</p><p>“Suffice it to say, Daniel, that you had a very real chance of wiping me entirely from existence, and you did not.” Lucifer chuckles wryly. “There is a depth, a strength to your character that you <em>can</em> draw on, when you choose to.”</p><p>Dan gapes at him, at a loss for words and Lucifer laughs again, with a bit of humor this time.</p><p>“Since we’re here, I have something I should say to you as well, Daniel—I don’t believe I properly thanked you for your actions with my brother last week. For risking your life for me.” Lucifer’s gaze is intense, and Dan shakes himself free of it with some effort.</p><p>“Hey man, I was only—”</p><p>“There was no debt, I had been very clear about that prior to Michael’s entrance, had I not?”</p><p>“You were very clear, but—it was something I needed to do.” Dan meets his gaze squarely now, daring the devil to argue.</p><p>“Well,” he smirks and huffs an exasperated sigh. “Now that it’s done, can I say thank you and will you agree that we’re even?”</p><p>“Even…” Dan muses thoughtfully. He still feels as though his ledger is still in the red, but Lucifer very obviously wants to put this behind them. “I dunno, man, I still don’t…”</p><p>“All right,” a thoughtful expression lands on his face, and he hesitates a moment. “I have a proposition for you then. How is your job search going?”</p><p>“Not great,” Dan admits reluctantly. “Why?”</p><p>“Well… I find myself in need of a new head of security for Lux,” he takes another pull from his tumbler before he continues. “Maze historically had the position, but she’s been neglecting it lately with her bounty hunting, and I’m starting to think it’s a critical role that needs to be filled.”</p><p>“You’re not seriously asking me to be your head of security?”  <em>Does he have </em>no<em> sense of self-preservation?</em></p><p>“I… am asking you to consider the offer,” he says slowly, “Clearly you know enough about Lux’s layout and security protocols to make your way past them, which means you know at least some improvements that could be made. And having someone in the position that has a sense of being in my debt could be beneficial to me, even if it’s only a perceived sense of debt and not an <em>actual</em> debt.”</p><p>“You… <em>are</em> seriously asking me to be your head of security.”</p><p>“It’s merely an offer, Daniel,” Lucifer throws up his hand defensively. “It’s a paid position, and something I think you’d likely be rather good at. You would have a personal vested interest in keeping Lux safe, as it’s likely that the Detective and your offspring are going to spending a fair amount of time here in future. You can continue to search for another job if you prefer not to accept it.”</p><p>“I dunno what to say, man,” and Lucifer has to admit that his expression does appear beyond bewildered. “Can I… think about it?”</p><p>“Of course, take all the time you desire,” Lucifer shrugs, turning back to his observation of the skyline. “And again, you’re under no pressure to agree to take the position, I merely thought it might fit you, and as you seemed to be having some difficulty, I thought it might… help.”</p><p>“I, uh. Thanks,” Dan shakes his head, trying to sort out his conflicting thoughts, but Lucifer remains turned away. “I’ll think about it and let you know.”</p><p>“Very well.”</p><p>They’re saved from awkward silence by the elevator chime, and Chloe steps into the penthouse, cell phone pressed to her ear and a concerned expression on her face.</p><p>“Okay,” she’s saying as she nears them, “No, of course, I’ll come get her. Yes. Thank you for calling, I’ll be there soon.”</p><p>“Chlo’?” Dan prompts tentatively. “Everything okay?”</p><p>“That was the school nurse, Trixie’s sick. Was she okay this morning?”</p><p>“She didn’t want to get out of bed, but she had enough energy to get pancake batter all over the kitchen,” he says slowly. “She didn’t say she didn’t feel well, though. Need me to go get her?”</p><p>“No, the school doesn’t know you’re, um, available yet,” Chloe shakes her head. “I’ll go get her. Can I bring her back here, Lucifer?”</p><p>“Of course, Detective, whatever you need. Should I procure any supplies?” He’s unused to dealing with human sickness, but he’s aware that medicines and maybe other things like thermometers and possibly rubbing alcohol are involved, none of which he’s likely to have on-hand.</p><p>“I’ll stop on the way back and get anything we might need,” Chloe stifles a smile, trying to imagine what ‘supplies’ Lucifer might think necessary for a sick child. “It sounds like it’s just a stomach bug, she’ll probably just sleep it off in the guest room.”</p><p>“All right, darling,” Chloe crosses the balcony and kisses his cheek, then turns to go.</p><p>“I think it’s your session next, Dan, Linda’s ready for you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. Michael's Loose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael is waiting outside the hut when Arael and Amenadiel land to transport him for his therapy session with the human.</p><p>“Hello brothers,” he hails them humbly, “Welcome to my little slice of Heaven.”</p><p>“Michael,” Arael greets warily, shooting a glance sideways to Amenadiel. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>“I’m learning that healing and soul replenishment is an unpleasant business all around,” the Sword grumbles. “I am grateful that Remiel has allowed me to continue assigning the rosters to distract myself from the pain.”</p><p>“I am sorry you are still in such pain, brother,” Amenadiel offers sympathetically. “I wish we knew how long it will last. Is Raphael not able to help?”</p><p>“Raphael has helped immensely with the physical pain,” Michael flexes his shoulders stiffly and grimaces, “but as my soul regenerates, more and more of the anguish is spiritual. Not only is the process itself painful—it feels as though my very <em>self</em> is burning—but the realization of the horrible things I’ve done… the sheer weight of my actions against you all is a heavy burden to bear.”</p><p>“I know that feeling well, brother, Linda will be able to help you with that burden, I am sure,” Amenadiel’s face crumples in sympathy, while Arael’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “She has helped me work through much of my burden of guilt.”</p><p>“If you trust her, I will gladly put myself in her tender care, brother.” Michael nods his head solemnly. “Is it time to go?”</p><p>“Yes, Dr. Martin will be ready for you soon,” Arael confirms, approaching him carefully. “We’ll need to chain you, Michael.”</p><p>“Of course,” Michael offers his wrists, cringing and hunching his shoulders in pain as he brings his hands close together in front of him.</p><p>Arael steps forward slowly, and Amenadiel places a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps we can wait until we arrive at Lux to place the restraints?” He bobs his head toward their brother, trembling in pain at the position he’s assumed for shackling. <em>He’s already expressed remorse for what he’s done, and he’s willing to be restrained, despite it causing pain to himself. Is there truly a need to prolong such pain?</em></p><p>Arael keeps an eye on Michael, but touches his hands together and responds to Amenadiel’s prayer, <em>Are you certain you’re willing to trust him so soon after killing Lucifer—and then trying to kill him again such a short time ago? I for one am not.</em></p><p>A flicker of doubt flares in Amenadiel’s eyes, but his response is firm. <em>I know what it is to be drowning in guilt. This small gesture will do more to ease him than any of Raphael’s salves.</em></p><p><em>Very well, brother,</em> Arael sighs and steps back. <em>I hope you are not wrong.</em></p><p>“It’s all right, Michael, you can relax,” Amenadiel soothes. “We’ll still need to restrain you before you go in to see Linda, but we can leave them off while we transport and wait.”</p><p>“Oh, brother, are you certain?” Michael’s tone is all concern and earnestness, but his eyes can’t hide the relief as he relaxes his posture into something more comfortable for his injured back. “Thank you for this consideration, it is far more than I deserve.”</p><p>“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Amenadiel chuckles warmly. “Are you ready?”</p><p>Arael and Amenadiel take up positions to either side of Michael, each securing an elbow for transport before crossing the dimensional border back to Earth and Lux. Michael stumbles a little as they land, and Arael tenses, but Amenadiel supports him in concern.</p><p>“I’m all right, thank you,” Michael straightens, a satisfied smile on his lips as he staggers a little distance away from his brothers. When he lifts his head, his eyes are cold and glinting with malice. <em>“And the two of you will stay here and alert no one that we’ve arrived.”</em></p><p>His tone is heavy with Command, and the two brothers freeze in place like stone sentinels. “I’ll only be a moment. <em>Hold your positions and allow no one upstairs.</em>”</p><p>*</p><p>Eve arrives about halfway through Daniel’s session.</p><p>“Hiya, Luce!” he represses his cringe at her continued shortening of his name, but manages to greet her cordially.</p><p>“Eve! I thought you’d wait ‘til after Michael was already safely back in the Silver City before you appeared for your session with the good Doctor.”</p><p>“Oh, well, I um… I have to work later this afternoon, so I figured I’d better get an earlier start.”</p><p>“Well… your work uniform is certainly interesting then,” Lucifer gives her a playful leer and she laughs, holding out her hands and twirling with a flourish. Her ensemble is primarily leather: black, knee-high boots, tight coffee-colored pants, burgundy crop top, and an oversized deep gold beret.</p><p>“Maze got it for me, but she barely let me out of the apartment this morning when I put it on, I’ll change before I head into work.”</p><p>“That sounds like Maze,” Lucifer agrees with a knowing smile-. “Would you like some coffee? Or something else to drink?”</p><p>“Coffee sounds great,” Eve gushes, “I didn’t have a chance to make any this morning.”</p><p>“Well, you certainly won’t be in any condition for therapy without proper caffeination,” he smiles at her warmly, ushering her into the kitchen and gently seating her at the bar. “How do you take it?”</p><p>“Oh, come <em>on</em>, Samael, you already know exactly how she <em>takes it</em>,” the chilling and <em>most</em> unwelcome voice of his twin emanates from the direction of the elevator. Eve’s face pales, and Lucifer motions silently for her to run, but she merely slithers to the floor under the bar.</p><p>“A gentleman never tells,” he retorts, moving quickly toward the voice, intent on keeping his brother away from Eve if possible. “However did you manage to evade your jailers?”</p><p>“Oh, that was quite easy, just a little Command, and they’re playing good little soldiers down on the ground floor.”</p><p>“Ahhh, so you’ve managed to regain some of your powers already? Bully for you,” <em>And just my luck,</em> he thinks wryly to himself. <em>No wonder He warned me.</em> “I take it your healing is going well, then? Got your wings back yet?” He emerges into the living area of the flat just in time to see a look of hatred cross Michael’s face. “Ah, I suppose not, then. Well, all good things come to those who wait. Or so I hear.”</p><p>He crosses the room with all the appearance of nonchalance, but his body is harpstring-taut, hypervigilant for the slightest move from his unstable brother. “What brings you to my penthouse, Michael? Come to have a little heart-to-heart before your session?” <em>The longer I can keep him distracted and talking, the more time Eve has to get away.</em></p><p>“A wasted effort, don’t you think, when you know <em>neither</em> of us has a heart to speak of,” Michael taunts acerbically.</p><p>“Just because <em>you</em> have never been able to care about another living being, Michael, doesn’t mean the same holds true for me.”</p><p>“Ah, I suppose that’s true. Passionate Samael, always so <em>helpful</em>, so <em>entertaining</em>, so <em>beloved</em>,” the wound on his face puckers as he sneers. “Perhaps <em>too much heart</em> was always your problem, brother.”</p><p>“Oh, you haven’t heard! You don’t have to call me ‘brother’ anymore—I’ve officially declared myself no longer my Creator’s son.” Lucifer rolls out that little distraction just to see where it might send his twin. He reaches his bar and shrugs out of his jacket, pouring himself another glass of scotch. “Would you care for a drink? I wouldn’t want it to be said that my hospitality is lacking, even for an unwelcome guest such as yourself.”</p><p>He glances back up at Michael, who had been moving closer, but now appears to be frozen in place. He has enough time to wonder if Amenadiel has somehow broken the Command and frozen time, before Michael barks a disbelieving laugh.</p><p>“You expect <em>me</em> to believe that <em>you</em> disowned <em>Father</em>?”</p><p>“You know I don’t lie,” Lucifer comments mildly, watching with wary amusement as the ruddy flush of rage creeps up Michael’s neck and into his face. “I told Him that, as he displays <em>none</em> of the characteristics I’ve observed from loving parents here on Earth, I can admit that He Created me, but He is <em>not</em> my father.”</p><p>“Oh, I see, another late-night screaming tirade from your balcony?” Michael mocks. “What happened this time, hm?  Your pretty Miracle finally got sick of you and ran again?”</p><p>“It’s true, the Detective <em>is</em> gone,” Lucifer injects some sadness into his tone, going along with Michael’s assumption. He can’t lie, but misdirection?  Oh, yes. “But no, I managed to disown Him to His face. It was really quite satisfying. He invited me to the Silver City to discuss lifting my banishment, and incidentally warned me that you were plotting something. I suppose I owe Him a point in his favor for that.”</p><p>“So your Miracle runs away from you again, and you decide to throw away your access to the Silver City, just like that?” Michael scoffs. “You really <em>have</em> gone soft, Samael.”</p><p>“Oh, Mikey, you <em>are</em> out of the loop, aren’t you,” Lucifer smirks, taking a slow sip of his scotch and watching his brother’s grimace from over the rim of his glass. “He’s still lifting my ban, even though I’m no longer His son. I’ll still be able to visit my friends in Heaven, once they pass the Gates.”</p><p>“You <em>disowned</em> Father, and He’s still letting you back into the City?” Michael growls incredulously.</p><p>“Oh, come now,” Lucifer mocks, “He let <em>you</em> back in, even after you lost your wings and killed me. It can’t be <em>that</em> big of a surprise that He’s letting me come back.”</p><p>“They locked me in <em>Arael’s Garden!</em>” Michael roars, suddenly furious. “I’m sleeping where those filthy humans set up their hovel and digging food from the earth to fill my thrice-damned stomach!”</p><p>“I’m sure you’ll understand my <em>complete</em> lack of empathy for you,” Lucifer raises a disdainful eyebrow, “After being beaten and broken, then literally thrown from an unfathomable height into the depths of Hell and being left to burn for centuries <em>before</em> pulling myself from the crater and having to spend the next few millennia fighting for my life to complete my tasks set by an uncaring creator… Surely you can understand why I have a small problem offering you any consideration for having to dig up your own dinner and sleep on a straw pallet.”</p><p>Michael’s jaw flexes in outrage, and Lucifer hopes he’s bought Eve enough time to make it out of the penthouse. He knows his brother’s fuse is nearing its flash point.</p><p>“Tell me Mikey, what <em>is</em> it you really want to accomplish here? Killing me <em>again</em> isn’t going to bring your wings back, or regain your standing in the Host.” Lucifer lets his very real curiosity shine through. He honestly can’t fathom his twin’s thought process for coming after him again and again.</p><p>“Well, I admit I came up here today only with the intent to kill you again,” Michael laughs, and the sound is dark and oily. “I even thought perhaps I could Command one of our brothers to dump your carcass in a star, since I’m sadly unable to do so just now. But now that I know our little friend Eve is up here, I might just renew my acquaintance with <em>her</em> while I wait to see how many of your other little humans show up for sessions with the good doctor.”</p><p>“You’ll not touch her, Michael,” he warns, eyes burning with intensity and lighting with rage. “You’ll not touch <em>any </em>of them again. I don’t want your blood on my hands—or my wings—but I will actually be fighting back, this time. If you won’t see sense, I <em>will</em> stop you.”</p><p>“Mm, like you stopped Uriel?” Michael spits venomously.</p><p>“And <em>who</em> sent Uriel after me, hm?” Lucifer’s eyes swirl red and black like molten lava as his reddened, leathery face overtakes his own handsome features</p><p><em>“Ahhh, there it is,</em>” Michael breathes triumphantly, spreading his empty hands. <em>“There</em> is the Devil I worked so hard to bring to life. <em>Finally.</em> It looks like it was painful… I <em>do </em>hope that was the case. Come on then, Adversary, let’s see how you fare against the Sword of God.”</p><p>They crash together like charging bull elephants and the floor quakes beneath them, Michael aims a left-handed blow to Lucifer’s jaw but overextends, exposing his back on his follow-through. Lucifer shakes off the punch and takes the opportunity to jab his elbow into the wing-extraction wound on his left shoulder blade and Michael falls to a knee, grunting in pain. Lucifer dances backward, angling toward a more open area. Michael leaps to his feet and charges, hauling Lucifer over his shoulder and flipping him on top of the brand-new piano, which groans under the force but doesn’t collapse as Lucifer keeps the momentum and rolls off the opposite side. He grabs the bench and swings, shattering it as it collides with Michael’s shoulder and knocks him to the ground. Lucifer aims a kick to Michael’s face, but Michael grabs his ankle and yanks, knocking the breath from both their lungs as Lucifer tumbles and lands on top of him before rolling quickly away. Michael no longer has his full celestial strength, but he’s still abnormally strong, and has been leading training for the Host for billions of years, learning more tricks and knowledge than any other. Lucifer has his Hell-forged skills and is at full power, but is still hoping to find a resolution that doesn’t end in killing another brother.</p><p>The fight rages around the penthouse, and somewhere at the back of his brain he acknowledges that he’s glad he hasn’t had a chance to fully replace everything from the <em>last</em> time Michael wreaked havoc on his home. The liquor shelf is shattered <em>again</em> when Lucifer flings Michael into it, the carefully chosen amber liquids cascading down the fragmented glass shelves in a veritable waterfall. Michael launches himself into Lucifer’s midsection again; this time they <em>both</em> land on the piano and the unfortunate instrument can’t withstand the barrage, collapsing into a fractured mass of wood, ivory and wire. Lucifer grabs a piece of the lid and clubs Michael with it, forcing him to abandon his hold around his throat and roll away, giving Lucifer time to pick himself up and grab Michael’s face in a vice grip, slowly working his thumbs toward his eyes. Michael blindly grasps to the side and comes up with a piece of wire, deftly wrapping it around Lucifer’s neck and tightening. Lucifer’s thumbs finally get into place and apply pressure to Michael’s eyes and Michael screams, rolling out from under his brother. With some distance between them, they both crouch watchfully for a moment, panting.</p><p>“Stop this madness, Michael,” Lucifer’s voice is deep and roughened, betraying more of his inner turmoil than he likes. “All I want is to live my life here without interference from all of you. Why can’t you just let me <em>be</em>?”</p><p>“What makes you think you’re <em>worthy</em> of a life free of service, Samael?” Michael hisses malevolently, blinking blood-tinged tears from his watering eyes. “You’ve always thought you were so much <em>better</em> than me, than the rest of us—even after your exile! You’re no more deserving of this life than any of the rest of us!”</p><p>“Why do you think I started asking Father about free will for the entire Host, Michael? It wasn’t <em>only </em>me I wanted to give options to!” Lucifer’s disbelieving laugh is bitter, and leaves the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. “Oh, Mikey, you should <em>really</em> talk with Doctor Linda, those delusions of yours might even be bigger than mine… and that’s something I <em>never</em> thought I’d say. Now come on, you’re not going to kill me with a fist fight, and I have no desire to use my wings to subdue you. How were you intending to win this, exactly?”</p><p>“Oh, how rude of me,” Michael sneers, as he pulls his dagger from his waistband. “I was intending to tear your heart out with this, of course.”</p><p>Lucifer stills, his devil face melting away as his eyes catch on the celestial sheen of the razor-edged blade.</p><p>“Not so glib now, eh, Samael?” Michael gloats, standing and circling slowly to the left, toward the hallway that leads to the kitchen. Lucifer follows suit, unfurling his wings and circling the same direction, but keeping them tucked tightly. Michael taunts him, “I thought you didn’t want my blood on your wings, hm?”</p><p>“I did warn you I would fight back this time,” Lucifer replies coolly, “I’ve let you kill me once, nearly twice in order to protect others. This time there’s no one else here you can threaten, and I’ll not go down without a real fight.”</p><p>“I’m going to enjoy killing you again, Samael,” Michael flips the dagger in his grip, and suddenly Lucifer sees Cain in his place. He blinks and it’s Michael again, sneering confidently. Lucifer mantles his wings around himself, flexing them so the feathers become deadly, serrated blades. He grits his teeth and stares into his brother’s cold eyes once again, determined to stop him from hurting those he cares about, no matter the cost to himself.</p><p>Michael moves to dart forward and Lucifer spreads his wings to defend when his twin suddenly stiffens, his movements stuttering as he crashes to his knees, then falls forward to lay flat on his stomach. Lucifer raises his eyes to find Eve kneeling above the prone form of his twin, dagger embedded below his ribs and panting heavily, tear tracks streaking down her face. She doesn’t look up, but yanks the dagger out as Michael twitches beneath her, then viciously stabbing again on the other side of the spine, twisting the curved blade this time as a strangled gurgling breath forces itself from Michael’s throat.</p><p>“Eve,” Lucifer breathes shakily, as he furls his wings away, “I see Maze’s lessons have come in handy.”</p><p>They stare at each other, breathing hard for several moments as Lucifer crosses the room, kneeling beside his twin’s twitching, barely breathing body. He knows a fatal wound when he sees one (or, in this case, two). “Your aim is impeccable darling, directly to each kidney. I’ll certainly not be working to get on your bad side.”</p><p>“Lucifer, I couldn’t let him…” Eve continues to kneel beside him, her trembling hands smeared with the archangel’s blood. “I couldn’t let him hurt anyone else again. What he did to me… to you… you didn’t see how your death affected <em>everyone</em> you left behind. Maze was…” She pulls in a deep, shuddering breath and a tear beads on her eyelashes before skipping down one pale cheek. “It was bad. He was never going to stop. And I didn’t want you to have a brother’s blood on your hands.”</p><p>A soft exhalation comes from Michael, and he breathes no more. Lucifer stares at the too-familiar body, trying to find some regret, some grief… all he can find is relief, and it makes him feel like a monster all over again.</p><p>“Are you all right?” he asks her gently, noticing her shaking getting worse. She doesn’t answer. “Eve?”</p><p>“I…” she trails off just as Arael and Amenadiel materialize on the balcony and barrel inside before freezing to survey the wreckage from the fight. They glance worriedly at each other as they scan the room</p><p>“Lucifer?”</p><p>“Luci, are you all right?”</p><p>The brothers call out simultaneously, and Lucifer’s arm wraps around Eve’s shoulder reassuringly as he responds.</p><p>“Here, brothers,” he croaks, “Michael hasn’t fared so well this time, I’m afraid.”</p><p>The two angels cross the room to find Lucifer and Eve kneeling beside Michael’s unmoving body. The two distinct and spreading patches of dark red blood on his back and the cooling puddle surrounding the body spell out exactly what happened. The spreading bruises on Lucifer’s jaw and neck, and the bloody dagger clutched loosely in Eve’s right hand tells them the rest. Lucifer stands slowly, but Eve remains kneeling, staring mesmerized at the pool of blood.</p><p>“How did he—” Amenadiel falters.</p><p>“He Commanded you,” Lucifer supplies darkly. “Apparently he managed to regain <em>some</em> of his powers, or he simply <em>wanted</em> to kill me badly enough that it became a <em>need</em>.”</p><p>“Are you all right?” Arael asks carefully, his blue-green eyes darkened with concern.</p><p>“I’m fine,” Lucifer replies absently, rubbing his jaw. “I think Eve should probably take the next slot with Dr. Linda, and we—”</p><p>He’s interrupted by the rustle of more wings on his balcony, and they all glance over to find a pale-faced Gabriel folding his tawny wings away as he strides toward them.</p><p>“Lucifer, Father is requesting your presence.” The Messenger’s voice is quiet, and his eyes very carefully don’t linger on the body at their feet.</p><p>“I can’t leave right now, the Detective is bringing her offspring back here, and I can’t just—”</p><p>“Luci, Dan is on his way back to Chloe’s apartment now, we had him have Chloe meet him there with Trixie. When he came out of the elevator, we snapped out of Michael’s command. We thought it would be safer if they were at the apartment instead, since we weren’t sure where—”</p><p>“All right, yes, good,” Lucifer waves off the rest of the explanation irritably. “Arael, would you please escort Eve to the good Doctor after she’s had a chance to wash? Amenadiel, you should go let Dr. Martin know what’s happened so she’ll be prepared for Eve’s condition. And I’ll—”</p><p>“You’re not intending to go alone?”</p><p>“I’ll be fine, brother,” Lucifer sighs. “I just spoke with him last night, so I’ve already gone through the worst of the adjustment. This visit will be far easier.”</p><p>“But, Luci—”</p><p>“Linda needs to know what happened. If you choose to come after me, I cannot stop you, but I’d <em>prefer</em> someone took care of <em>this</em>,” he nudges Michael’s cooling body with the toe of his shoe irreverently, “before the Detective arrives and finds it. Are we agreed on our course of action?  Arael, kindly see to Eve. Amenadiel, please inform the Doctor.”</p><p>They nod reluctantly. Lucifer and Gabriel stride to the balcony, unfurl their wings and disappear as Arael carefully helps Eve to her feet and guides her to the kitchen to wash the blood from her hands. She watches, fascinated, as his callused fingers massage the soap over her unresisting ones, rinsing the crimson stains from her skin. He notices the coffee and pours a cup for her, encouraging her to take some sips before habit takes over and she drains the entire mug. She seems to come a little more alive as the warmth of the liquid and the caffeine slowly starts to bloom in her stomach, and he pours her another mug before guiding her to the elevator for her session. The main room is empty save for Michael’s corpse as they pass through, and Arael carefully blocks her view of it as they make their way to the doctor.</p><p>*</p><p>Chloe has just collected a miserable-looking Trixie from the school nurse when her phone alerts her of a text.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Bring Trix to your place. I’ll meet you there. Michael’s loose.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>She stares at her phone in horror. <em>Michael’s loose? How in the hell does </em>that<em> happen?</em> She sucks in a deep, steadying breath, keeping her face as expressionless as possible so she doesn’t scare her daughter. <em>It’s fine. He doesn’t have his wings or sword anymore. Lucifer’s invulnerable, and Michael’s powers are gone. It’ll be fine.</em></p><p>But her mantra doesn’t stop the fear bubbling in her gut, or her hands from sweating on the steering wheel as she drives a bit faster than normal to her apartment as her Monkey dozes listlessly in the back seat. At least that just appears to be a typical run-of-the-mill stomach bug—the nurse assured her one has been making the rounds at school, one of the 24-hour ones. She pulls into her parking spot just as Dan is exiting his own car, and without even discussing it he unbuckles Trixie and pulls her gently into his arms, waving her off. She throws the car into reverse and heads for Lux, wishing she was driving Lucifer’s Corvette with the siren installed.</p><p><em>Michael’s loose. Michael’s loose. Michael’s loose. Michael’s loose.</em> The thought forms a siren of her very own, wailing louder and louder inside her head as she weaves through midday traffic toward Lux, cursing to herself at every slowdown and red light. She bursts into Lux, but the club level is empty so she bolts for the lift. The ride to the penthouse has never seemed longer, not even when she was anxiously dreading telling him about her involvement with Kinley. She plows her way through the doors before they even have time to properly open, bursting into the penthouse and taking in the battlefield.</p><p>Because that’s what the penthouse is—it’s completely <em>wrecked</em>. She’s seen it this way a time or two—piano crushed and broken, liquor shelf shattered and dripping, furniture overturned and destroyed, and a familiar long-limbed, dark-haired body sprawled face-down in a pool of blood—<strong><em>no.</em></strong></p><p>“Lucifer, no” she breathes, racing across the room to the prone form and dropping to her knees beside him. Her fingers fumble at his throat, praying to anyone, to <em>him</em> for a pulse, for some sign of life, but the coolness of the skin tells her another story. “No. Nononononono,” she continues this new mantra as her detective’s brain kicks into gear. The pool of blood has started to congeal into gel, crusting around the edges, and the body is far too still, and pale. A silvery dagger rests in the pool, blade coated in crimson. Chloe’s never seen anything like its design. <em>So much for Michael being unarmed…</em> <em>Wait…</em> she looks again at the body, at the roughness of the fabric of the shirt and trousers, and a tiny shoot of hope cracks from its seed. She grabs the shoulder and rolls it, and sobs a flood of relieved tears as she sees the puckered scar across the otherwise familiar face.</p><p>“Lucifer!?” she shouts, and she coughs desperately her voice catches in her throat, nearly choking her with the burning need to <em>find him</em>.</p><p>“Chloe!” It’s not the voice she needs to hear, but she shoves the body away from her and staggers to her feet, tears still streaming from her face as she turns and finds Amenadiel at the top of the stairs from the level below, a tarp in hand and a concerned look on his face. “He’s okay! That’s not him, he had to—”</p><p>“I <em>know</em> it’s not him, Amenadiel, <em>where is he?”</em></p><p>“He’s fine, Chloe, it’s—” he places a steadying hand on her trembling shoulder and continues, “Eve killed Michael with one of Maze’s blades. Lucifer had to go to the Silver City, Gabriel came with a summons for him just after Arael and I broke free of Michael’s Command and made it up here to try to stop him.”</p><p>“You let him go <em>alone?”</em></p><p>“He needed us to… to take care of things here,” he gestures awkwardly with the tarp toward the body. “He didn’t want you to… well, to find this, and worry. Obviously, I miscalculated how long Trixie would keep you occupied. I’m sorry Chloe, you shouldn’t have needed to—”</p><p>“Dan told me Michael was loose. He took Trix from the car as soon as I pulled up, and I sped the entire way.” Chloe feels her light flaring in her chest, and she takes another deep breath. “I’ll help you with… with <em>this</em>, and then we’re going after him. Clear?”</p><p>“I was already planning to go after I’d finished here, Chloe, but you—” he falters at the look on her face, or perhaps her eyes are glowing again… she can’t find it in her to care if they are. The angel sighs heavily, “You are more than welcome to come with me, of course.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0041"><h2>41. You Bastard</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gabriel hovers anxiously over his brother’s crumpled form at the Silver City limits. Lucifer had either underestimated the effect the divinity would have on him the second time around or vastly overestimated his ability to deal with the crushing overabundance of it. <em>At least this time the Detective isn’t here to witness my weakness,</em> he thinks to himself wryly as he grits his teeth to avoid groaning in pain. He hunches his shoulders, mantling his wings around him as a shield from the divine light crashing down on him. The irony isn’t lost to him: The Lightbringer, grown accustomed to the darkness and never-ceasing pressure of Hell, now pressed to the ground under the light of divinity that he himself had placed in the sky.</p><p>He focuses on the wavelength of that light, slowly drawing it back into himself. He feels it suffusing his feathers, imagines it rolling across his skin like a cool shower rather than a devastating avalanche. After what feels like an eternity the pain slowly leaches away as he and his Star of the Morning once again find their balance. He draws in a relieved breath and lets it out slowly, hearing Gabriel do the same as his muscles slowly relax and he’s able to stagger to his feet.</p><p>“Are you all right, brother?” Gabriel doesn’t move to support him, but his wings twitch in his direction as though he would like to. “That seemed… worse than last time? I thought you would acclimate more quickly with this visit.”</p><p>“Last time was worse,” Lucifer assures him easily, his own wings waving gently to help him keep his balance. “This time I merely didn’t need to pull myself together so quickly to stave off the Detective’s worry. She’s relentless, you know.” Gabriel looks at him askance, and he sighs. “It also didn’t help that the last visit was fairly short in duration, I didn’t have time to <em>fully</em> acclimate because I was so eager to leave.”</p><p>“Ahh,” At this Gabriel nods in understanding. “When you are ready we can move on, there will be no need to wait for this meeting, Father is ready for you when we arrive.”</p><p>“Lovely,” Lucifer grouses dryly, gesturing for Gabriel to lead the way. “I can only assume this is about bloody Michael.”</p><p>“He sent me to collect you the moment He felt his death,” Gabriel confirms grimly. They set off walking in silence for a few minutes before Gabriel tentatively asks, “Lucifer—what happened?”</p><p>“He managed to use his Command on Amenadiel and Arael, slipped away from them and came after me again. Eve and I were in the penthouse when he arrived, and he threatened to hurt her again, then threatened my other human friends, and… we fought.”</p><p>“Yes, I saw the aftermath.  Your bruising is… impressive.”</p><p>“Yes, he managed to get a few strikes in,” Lucifer rubs his jaw, his hand sliding down his throat thoughtfully. “I didn’t pull my wings out until he pulled his dagger. I wasn’t going to let him hurt anyone else, Gabriel.”</p><p>“Nor should you have,” Gabriel reassures him firmly. “Your wings, though… they’re clean. Did you get the dagger from him?”</p><p>“No,” Lucifer admits reluctantly, “he was charging at me when Eve ambushed him from behind. I think she used one of Mazikeen’s blades. Whatever it was, it was highly effective.”</p><p>Gabriel’s hazel eyes widen in surprise. “The Sword was brought down by a <em>human?”</em></p><p>“Never underestimate humans, Gabriel, it will get you in trouble every time, trust me on that.” Lucifer smiles sadly. “Speaking of trouble, is Michael back up here? He certainly didn’t feel any guilt for anything he’s done.”</p><p>Gabriel shrugs, and his black-barred wings follow the movement, giving him the look of a hawk ruffling off a layer of morning dew. “I don’t know, I told you, Father sent me for you the moment He felt Michael’s death. I suppose we’ll find out.”</p><p>“He’s not here,” comes a familiar voice from above, and a slight breeze accompanies the arrival of the Angel of Hope and Redemption. “Hello again Lucifer, you’re leading quite the exciting life lately, aren’t you?”</p><p>“Phanuel,” Lucifer sighs in resignation. “You’re here to get the truth of the story to spread to the Host.”</p><p>“You know me well, brother,” She smiles sadly up at him. “I am glad Michael didn’t succeed this time, Lucifer. We should have enough time for you to tell me your tale before we reach Father’s audience chamber.”</p><p>Lucifer pulls his emotional walls close around himself and folds his wings away, taking a fortifying breath to ward off any shakiness to his voice and beginning his tale with Eve in the penthouse this morning. He provides details without being asked, and she only stops him once to ask if he knows where Michael obtained the dagger.</p><p>“I’m afraid I don’t,” he muses, “and I left it at the penthouse, it didn’t even occur to me. Do you think he has allies here?”</p><p>“He’s been guarded by the Grigori,” Gabriel chimes in eagerly, “no one could have gotten close enough to slip him a weapon.”</p><p>“Unless he used his Command on one of them…” Phanuel muses. “I’ll have Remiel do a check and see if any of them are missing any of their personal weaponry.”</p><p>“If they are, it’s not their fault,” Lucifer reminds her, “Grigori don’t betray their Watching duties for anything, but a Command would override that.”</p><p>“I know, Lucifer,” Phanuel glances at him with amusement in her crystal blue eyes. “It’s good to know your keenness for fairness and justice hasn’t faded any in the time you’ve been away.”</p><p>“Not a whit,” Lucifer preens at her observation, and she chuckles at his posturing, before seriousness intrudes again.</p><p>“I will make certain the truth of this incident is known as well,” she assures him solemnly. “I am sorry we have lost another brother, but it’s clear to me that Eve was right—he was never going to stop coming after you.”</p><p>“I do seem to be a tantalizing target,” Lucifer agrees dolefully.</p><p>“Both of our brothers’ deaths can be laid squarely in <em>Michael’s</em> hands, Lucifer,” Gabriel chastises mildly, as Phanuel nods emphatically. <em>“He</em> sent Uriel after you, and when Uri failed, he chose to try to finish you off himself.”</p><p>“I…” Lucifer’s throat works, trying to swallow the too-familiar emotion swelling there. His voice is strangled, but he squeezes his eyes shut and manages to get the words out, “I just wish he would have <em>stopped.”</em></p><p>A supportive arm loops around his waist from his right as Phanuel pulls him into her side, and the warmth of a large hand rests on his left shoulder as Gabriel reaches out to lend his strength as well, and Lucifer’s eyes burn behind his closed lids. They walk this way for several paces before Lucifer can open his eyes again, forcing a watery chuckle.</p><p>“Well, look at that, we’re nearly there.” He stiffens slightly and his siblings pull away, but remain close-by. “Thank you both for… for the support. I had… nearly forgotten. It’s almost enough to make me regret it.”</p><p>“Regret what?” Phanuel asks curiously, at the same time Gabriel says,</p><p>“What did you nearly forget, Lucifer?”</p><p>“Well, declaring myself no longer His son, of course.” He answers Phanuel first and at their stunned expressions, a wry smile briefly crosses his face. “What, has He told <em>no one? </em>I thought He’d be caroling it from the top of His precious tower that He’d finally managed to rid Himself of the blight of me.”</p><p>“Lucifer…” Gabriel’s mouth opens, closes, then opens again as he apparently reaches for words that aren’t there. “He still considers you His son. When He sent me for you, His words were to ‘Bring My son, the Lightbringer.’”</p><p>“Bit late for that,” Lucifer snorts, relieved that he’s sounding more like himself now, back on the familiar ground of familial contempt. “After eons entombed in Hell without so much as a bloody holiday card, I’m more than happy to be done with it all. Except,” he continues quietly, nearly to himself, “I realize now that I’ll also likely lose you in the aftermath as well.”</p><p>“Brother,” Phanuel’s musical voice is earnest, and he turns to meet her wide blue eyes, shining silver in the starlight. “I cannot speak for the Host, but for my part, I will not turn from you again.”</p><p>“Nor I,” Gabriel adds quickly, crossing his arms and flaring his wings in defiance.</p><p>“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Lucifer smiles sadly. “He has already said that I’ll still be able to visit the Silver City to keep tabs on my friends and my Earthly family once they pass the Gates, and that’s really all I wanted. I’ve been alone for… Well. It hardly matters now. And here we are!” He pulls in a relieved breath, distracting himself from unwanted memories. “Gabriel, Phanuel, always a pleasure.”</p><p>The door to the tower cracks open at his approach and he quickly slips inside without looking back. It closes behind him, leaving the siblings to gape at each other in astonishment.</p><p>*</p><p>Linda’s head is already reeling and she’s barely halfway through her day. At least Dan’s session had gone fairly normally—especially for a Celestial-centric session. He continues to struggle with his grief and anger, and the stresses caused by his actions after he saw Lucifer’s face. Easy enough for Linda to talk him through those, to listen and give advice as warranted, and help make sure he’s aware of his behavioral patterns and their consequences.</p><p>She’d been waiting for her next patient to appear and happily noting Dan’s progress in his file when Amenadiel had burst in, anxiously wringing his hands and babbling that Michael had regained some of his powers and tried to kill Lucifer again, only to be killed by <em>Eve</em> of all people. She’d barely been able to wrap her head around the fact that not only was Michael dead, but that she was now expected to counsel the person that had <em>killed him</em>-- mere moments after the actual murder—before Arael had rapped lightly on the door to the room designated as her temporary office and escorted a vastly subdued Eve inside.</p><p>He’s looking at Linda now, curiously raising an eyebrow. She nods, a silent ‘I’ve got this’, and he and Amenadiel vacate the room. Eve sits in the chair across from her with a mug of steaming coffee clutched in her left hand, staring at her right hand as though she’s never seen it before in her life. Linda recognizes shock when she sees it. She pulls the thick blanket folded over the top of her chair and wraps it gently around Eve’s trembling shoulders.</p><p>“Eve?” she ventures gently, after a few minutes of Eve continuing to stare at her clenched hand in silence. Then again, a little more firmly, “Eve.”</p><p>Eve’s deep brown eyes snap up to meet hers but they’re wide and blank, reflecting none of the intelligence and quick wit she’s seen in them before.</p><p>“You’re safe here, Eve, he can’t hurt you, or anyone else anymore.” Linda starts by reassuring the younger (older?) woman. “Can you tell me what happened?”</p><p>“I…” her voice is faint, and Linda leans forward to hear her. “He pretended to be Samael.”</p><p>Linda remembers a very stressful conversation with Lucifer about the name Samael, that resulted in a very large hole in her office wall. “When was that, Eve?”</p><p>“In the Garden,” she whispers into her coffee mug. “Michael came to the garden and pretended to be Samael, and he… we…”</p><p>“Oh,” Linda breathes, starting to develop a clearer picture of the history between them. “You must have felt incredibly violated when you learned the truth.”</p><p>“At… at first I was <em>relieved </em>that he was okay, because I thought Adam had hurt him badly and I was concerned, but when Samael—Lucifer—showed me his wings, and I realized that I’d been…” she trails off for a moment before coming back to herself. “I was horrified. I’d never been able to figure out why sometimes when we were together it was so fun and tender… then other times it was… dark and, and thrilling. When Sa—Lucifer told me about his brother and what he can do, it started to make sense.”</p><p>“It must have made you very angry.”</p><p>“I think I was more dazed than anything, for a long time,” she admits quietly, still gazing into her mug. “Right after that we got banished from the Garden, and Adam blamed me. I mean, I probably shouldn’t have… but <em>Adam</em> was the one that attacked an archangel. I was cast out because <em>Adam</em> was violent, and I was his wife so I went with him. We weren’t cast out because of what I did with… with Lucifer.” She looks up at the doctor, and her eyes are wistful. “We got past it, mostly. Led a good life, two sons. We were never <em>really</em> right for each other—he missed his first wife, and I could never be her, no matter how much I tried to change for him. I always felt so happy with Lucifer, like I could just be <em>me</em>… that’s why I came back here.”</p><p>“You came back for Lucifer?”</p><p>“Yeah, well,” she corrects herself almost immediately, and a little of her natural animation starts to reassert itself,  “that’s what I <em>thought</em> I came back for. But when I finally got to see him, it was pretty obvious that he and Chloe are building something, so… I thought I could maybe just learn to be me… without him? And then I found Maze, and… she <em>loves</em> it when I’m me.”</p><p>“That sounds wonderful, Eve,” Linda praises gently, and a small smile flickers across Eve’s lips. “Do you want to talk about what happened today?”</p><p>“Since Michael reappeared, everything I’d managed to tell myself I’d forgotten has just been bubbling up. I… asked Maze to show me how to fight with a blade, like she does—I thought it might help me feel… safer?”</p><p>“Learning self-defense is a very reasonable course of action for someone who has been through experiences like yours. It gives you a sense of control.”</p><p>“When Michael showed up today, I froze,” a sob breaks loose and she hunches over her lap for a moment, composing herself. “Lucifer tried to get me to run, tried to protect me while he went to face him… but I didn’t. I couldn’t even stand up, my knees were shaking so bad, so I crawled from the kitchen and down the hallway toward where they were fighting. The things Michael was saying… he was threatening <em>all of us</em>, and Lucifer didn’t want to kill his brother… but…” she squares her shoulders and looks up defiantly, “he <em>wasn’t</em> going to stop until he killed Luce again. He was broken, somewhere deep inside, and there wasn’t going to be any fixing him. He needed to be stopped, or none of us would be safe. Lucifer tried to protect me… but <em>I</em> needed to protect <em>him.”</em></p><p>Linda gazes at the frail, yet incredibly strong woman before her and feels a burst of pride. “I’m sorry you were put in that situation, Eve, but… I think you could be right. As a therapist I shouldn’t tell you this, but I personally would never have trusted Michael to be near any of you. If he were human, we would have other options, but since he wasn’t… I think you took the best course of action available to any of us. And… as a friend… <em>thank you</em> for saving Lucifer from having to do it himself.”</p><p>The two women share a look, and Linda gently directs the session back to helping Eve work through her reaction to what had happened upstairs.</p><p>*</p><p>The door closes behind him with a soft <em>snick</em> that strikes him more like the clanging of a cell door, and Lucifer subtly pulls in a deep breath, carefully calming the roiling pit of emotion that’s taken residence in his stomach. His fa—<em>Creator—</em>stands in the center of the room awaiting him serenely as he cautiously approaches.</p><p>“So what should I call you now?” Lucifer wonders aloud as he reaches conversational distance. “God? El? Yahweh?”</p><p>“I’ve always gotten a bit of a chuckle when you’ve called Me a bastard,” God offers facetiously, and Lucifer’s expression clouds ominously.</p><p>“Ah, so You <em>were</em> listening, hm?” he growls, “Just couldn’t be bothered to respond? Couldn’t be bothered to fill me in on… on <em>anything!?</em> You just let me nearly ruin everything with the Detective <em>so many</em> <em>times </em>because I was certain she was just another way for <em>you</em> to manipulate me—and Mum—and <em>Uriel—” </em></p><p>“During your time on Earth, I have <em>always</em> listened to you, s—Lucifer,” God confirms carefully, gesturing to the furniture in an invitation to sit as he takes a seat himself. “Did Chloe tell you why I try not to speak to My children directly anymore?” Lucifer steadies his breathing, lifts an eyebrow and shakes his head almost imperceptibly.</p><p>“With most of the Host, if I express anything in the shape of a wish, whim, or want, they take it as an order and immediately work to make it so—as though I’m incapable of achieving My own directives if I truly wished to do so.” He shakes his head and chuckles to himself. “So I’ve placed Myself at a distance, hoping that by restraining My interactions with them to the bare minimum, they will begin to make their own choices. And they <em>have</em>, in tiny ways. But none so spectacularly as you.”</p><p>“Yes, well, as lovely as this conversation is,” Lucifer grits out from between clenched teeth, “I’m really not in the mood for a trip down the flaming memory lane of my epic mistakes. Can You please get to the point? Why did You bring me here? I assume it’s about Michael, given Your timing.” His voice cracks on his twin’s name, but he doesn’t let it break.</p><p>“It is,” God agrees, “and it also <em>isn’t</em>.”</p><p>Lucifer looks up, tilting his head in confusion. They sit in silence for a moment before Lucifer’s patience wears thin. “Well? Are you planning to elaborate sometime this century, <em>you bastard?” </em>Lucifer adds the last words sarcastically, and God barks a laugh at His erstwhile son’s indomitable spirit.</p><p>“I built you, Lucifer,” God emphasizes unnecessarily, and Lucifer’s upper lip twitches at the unwanted reminder. “I crafted every tiny particle of you with light, energy, Will, and divinity… with your mother’s help, of course. I know what turmoil is brewing in your heart in this moment. That the beginnings of unnecessary guilt are already starting to thread their way through your being and into your subconscious mind. I wanted to make sure that you <em>know</em> without a shadow of doubt that what happened to Michael was <em>not</em> your fault. Michael’s choices were his own, as were Uriel’s. The loss of their lives cannot be laid at your feet. You have already spoken with Gabriel and Phanuel—you know that they do not blame you, and neither do Amenadiel and Arael. You mustn’t let yourself doubt, or your self-actualization will set you on a very unpleasant path until you can manage to stop it. I would like very much to see you avoid that path, My son.”</p><p>These words are nothing like what Lucifer had expected to hear from his Creator. He stiffens in his seat, pulling away as the other man leans forward earnestly. A loose fluttery feeling develops in his stomach, and he wonders for a moment what it feels like when humans are about to vomit.  <em>Am I about to vomit?</em> He closes his sagging jaw with a small click, clearing his throat. When he’s sure he can speak in a normal tone of voice, Lucifer reminds him, “Not Your son anymore, remember?”</p><p>“You said I am not your father,” God agrees reluctantly, “I <em>never</em> said you were not My son. I will try to refrain from referring to you as such, as I know it angers you for now. I understand your justified sense of betrayal, of abandonment, and I know you are struggling to overcome the conditioning you had to adopt in Hell in order to survive.” A look of profound sadness washes over His aged face as He continues, “While I <em>have</em> been able to see and hear you when you’ve spoken to—or about—Me while on Earth, I… I don’t see into the infernal plane well at all, Lucifer—the lack of divinity there obscures my senses. I didn’t know the extent of what you had experienced until you told your tale to Arael and Azrael. I should have remembered that the lack of divinity there would result in slowing your healing to a glacial pace, and that your suffering would have been extended for centuries. I admit that I… didn’t want to think about it, and purposely worked to distract myself until time quite got away from Me, to avoid looking for you at My side, and finding you gone.”</p><p>The Devil stares blankly at God for a full minute before barking a guffaw of incredulous laughter. The outburst breaks the dam and more laughter escapes, rolling and tumbling over itself until Lucifer is gasping for breath and clutching at his stomach in near-pain. The more he tries to rein himself in, the higher-pitched the laughter becomes until it can really only be heard by Celestial ears, and perhaps a few species of particularly sensitive bats. Finally, he pulls himself together, straightening his suit and running his hands over his beet-red face, clearing the gathered moisture from his eyes. His cheeks are dry—even tears of laughter are conditioned not to fall at any cost—and he pulls in a deep, cleansing breath before letting it out slowly as God watches, bemused.</p><p>“Done now?” He quirks an indulgent eyebrow at His son and gives him a small smile, inviting a real response.</p><p>“For now,” Lucifer sighs heavily. “It’s just utterly absurd… it almost sounded for a moment like you <em>missed me.</em>”</p><p>“Of course I missed you, Lucifer.”</p><p>“Well it must have been bloody nice,” Lucifer stands abruptly and starts to pace in agitation. “to simply find something else to do, and avoid thinking uncomfortable <em>thoughts.</em> While I was <em>shattered, bleeding and on bloody fire </em>at the bottom of Hell’s deepest crater for <em>centuries—</em>Oh, no. No, no, no, no. I’ve managed <em>not </em>to punch You in the face again thus far, and I am <em>not </em>throwing away my chance at visiting my humans here once they cross the Gates. We’re <em>not</em> having this discussion. Tell me why You <em>really</em> brought me here.”</p><p>“All right,” God sighs heavily and hangs His head for a moment before lifting His chocolate brown eyes to meet His son’s deep mahogany gaze. “Please speak to your Dr. Martin about what you’re feeling. It <em>will</em> get worse if you don’t address it. Will you at least promise that?”</p><p>“I have an appointment with her this afternoon, I have absolutely <em>zero</em> chance of getting away without discussing it.” Lucifer’s tone is resigned, and God stifles a smile as He considers the wonderful friends His son has managed to make during his short time on Earth.</p><p>“Very well,” He nods regally, keeping His eyes on the agitated devil pacing anxiously in front of Him. “I’ve set the time for the Announcement. It will occur 3 Earth days from now—I believe Chloe has some time off work that day.”</p><p>Lucifer pauses in his pacing and narrows his eyes at God before nodding suspiciously. “How long are you planning on keeping us here?”</p><p>“The ceremony will be brief,” He acknowledges, leaning forward in His chair again and watching His son intently, “but the celebration will likely last a while and the Host will be eager to speak with you, and meet Chloe. I have made sure to extend invitations to your human friends that have already crossed the Gates, and they’re quite excited to see you.”</p><p>“You did?” Lucifer nearly whispers, afraid to allow himself a fleeting hope, always so elusive in the past. “They <em>are?”</em></p><p>“Your siblings are even more so,” God points out, just as softly, and Lucifer stiffens.</p><p>“They’re not—”</p><p>“You don’t have to claim Me as your Father in order to keep your siblings, Lucifer. I think it unlikely that they will abandon you again, especially now that they know the real story of what happened with Michael.”</p><p>“I suppose only time will tell, won’t it,” Lucifer snaps, adjusting his cuffs in a nervous habit. “If that’s—”</p><p>“I don’t <em>care</em> if it’s God’s tower, <em>my partner</em> is in there, and I’m going after him!” a <em>very </em>familiar, infuriated voice emanates from just outside the door. <em>“You’re not going to stop me.</em>”</p><p>“Oh, dear,” God murmurs, unsuccessfully trying to hide a smile. “I think the cavalry has arrived.”</p><p>*</p><p>Chloe’s heart is in her throat the entire time she’s helping Amenadiel wrap Michael’s cooling body in the tarp for transport. Once they have him rolled and packaged like a particularly noxious rug, Amenadiel picks him up, promising to bury him near Uriel’s final resting place—<em>not</em> the one Michael had used to stash Lucifer, as that feels a bit unlucky now—and return to guide Chloe to Heaven to retrieve her partner.</p><p>She anxiously watches him go, then sets about cleaning up the penthouse while she waits.  The busier she stays, the less she worries… or at least that’s what she tries to tell herself. She doesn’t think about Lucifer facing down his father as she grabs cleaning supplies and mops up the enormous congealed puddle of blood from the marble floor, and she definitely doesn’t think about the difficulty he had adjusting to Heaven’s atmosphere when they were there just last night as she calls downstairs to ask Patrick about an industrial-sized waste bin to start chucking bits of the poor piano and the shattered glass from the shelves into.</p><p>“Really?” he sighs over the line. <em>“Again?”</em></p><p>“I know,” she commiserates feelingly, clenching her phone tightly in her hand, “it really wasn’t his fault, though.”</p><p>“It never is,” she hears the clatter of wheels on smooth flooring, “I’ll be right up with it.”</p><p>“Thank you, Patrick!” she disconnects the call and makes sure all the visible evidence of outright angelic murder is obliterated before the elevator chimes, announcing his arrival.</p><p>“Whew, you weren’t kidding,” he gazes around eyes wide. “Do you want some help here?”</p><p>“Oh, I’ll be all right,” she assures him quickly, not wanting him to get an eyeful of angel wings when Amenadiel returns. “Lucifer’s brothers will be back soon and they’ll help me with the bigger bits.”</p><p>“Oh yeah, those guys have some serious muscles, they’ll have it cleared in no time. Alright, Detective Decker, if you need anything else, just lemme know.”</p><p>Patrick heads back down to Lux just as Arael appears at the top of the stairs. His vivid aquamarine eyes immediately find the place where Michael’s body had lain and linger there before skirting around the rest of the flat.</p><p>“Amenadiel took him to bury him near where Uriel wound up,” Chloe offers, assuming that’s what he was wondering. He nods absently and she opts to leave him to his thoughts—or maybe grief—as she puts on some work gloves and starts picking up splintered bits of wood, glass, and wire and tossing them noisily into the bin. She swallows hard around the lump that’s formed as she throws away the wrecked remains of the beautiful instrument. She had asked Lucifer once what drew him to music, and his response had made her cry.</p><p><em>“Why, Detective, it reminds me that no matter how bad things get, at least I’m not in Hell.”</em> His fingers had danced along the keys, playing a blissful melody.<em> “There is no music in Hell, except for the horrible stuff, for torture, you know. There was </em>always<em> music in the Silver City… it’s one of the only things I allowed myself to truly miss after I was cast out.”</em> He’d noticed her tears then, and had stopped playing to comfort her. A few more fall now as she picks up the scattered ivory and black keys and tips them into the bin. Arael finally shakes himself out of his funk and comes to work beside her, picking up the larger pieces and effortlessly breaking them down into chunks that can easily fit into the container.</p><p>When nothing is left but the larger pieces that only Arael can handle, she moves to the liquor shelf and starts sifting, managing to find one or two decanters that haven’t been destroyed. She carefully wipes them clean and leaves them on the bar before picking up the larger pieces of glass shelving, depositing them carefully into the container, then grabbing a dustpan and sweeping the shards of glass into it and doing the same.</p><p>Arael moves on to righting the upturned furniture as Chloe takes a thick towel and wipes down the area, being careful to get all the stray glass splinters she can. Once she finishes that, she wipes it all down again with cleaning solution to help remove the sticky alcohol residue and help clear the coppery scent of blood from the air.</p><p>Linda arrives in the lift, looking at the empty space where the piano had been and the now full wheelie-bin with wide, worried eyes.</p><p>“Where—?"</p><p>“Amenadiel is burying Michael,” Arael offers as Chloe sinks into one of the leather chairs, which is now leaning a little to the left but otherwise seems solid. “And Lucifer has been summoned to speak with our father.”</p><p>“Again?” Linda’s voice hitches up an octave in concern, and Chloe’s stomach tightens in sympathetic anxiety. She swallows hard, forcing down the bile that’s threatening to climb her throat and make an unwelcome appearance. She rubs the knuckle of her thumb along her sternum, feeling for their Link. It feels dormant—but only in the way that it does when he’s not nearby—certainly not the way it had felt when he’d been dead.</p><p>“I’m going after him once Amenadiel gets back,” Chloe assures her, and Linda’s worried gaze falls on her. “I can’t… quite get there on my own, I need a, uh… boost.”</p><p>Arael laughs softly, but Linda only looks confused. He kindly explains, “Heaven’s plane is… higher than this one, quite as literally as Hell is a <em>lower</em> plane. While Chloe can cross the dimensional barrier, her wings are insubstantial, incapable of actual flight. So… while she <em>could</em> fall to Hell, she <em>can’t</em> climb to Heaven itself without someone with corporeal wings to give her a very literal <em>lift</em>.”</p><p>“Oooh,” Linda breathes in realization. “Chloe, you’re so lucky Lucifer managed to catch you when you went after him!”</p><p>“I know,” she shakes her head. “It’s a good thing I asked them to just ‘take me to <em>him’</em>, instead of ‘take me to Hell’.”</p><p>“Yes, phrasing is important,” Linda nods, a bit manically.</p><p>“How is Eve?” Arael asks considerately, and Linda’s gaze sharpens.</p><p>“I think she’ll be okay,” she muses slowly, thinking back over their conversation. “She’s at least not shocky anymore, and I made sure that Maze was going to be home to watch over her for the rest of the day.”</p><p>“Is Maze really the best option, there?” Chloe asks honestly.</p><p>“They’ve got a strong bond, and Maze is… highly motivated to take good care of Eve. Also, they both have my number if they need me.” Linda grins at Chloe, then turns to Arael, gesturing to the room at large. “How was Lucifer handling this?”</p><p>“I arrived nearly the same time Gabriel did to take him to Father,” Arael’s gaze moves back to the place where Michael’s body had lain. “We found the two of them kneeling beside the body. Lucifer seemed to pull himself together fairly well, directing Amenadiel to alert you, Doctor, and asking me to help Eve clean the blood from her hands and escort her to you while he accompanied Gabriel to the Silver City.”</p><p>Chloe listens carefully to Arael’s narrative, mentally filling in Lucifer’s expression, posture, diction and tone. She knows how good he is at shutting down emotions to deal with current crises, and she <em>knows</em> how badly that always ends for him.</p><p>“Was he injured, Arael?” Chloe interjects anxiously. She hadn’t really seen any more blood around the scene of the fight, but…</p><p>“He had a nasty bruise on his jaw, and a mark darkening around his neck, but other than some stiffness, he seemed to be uninjured.” Arael lifts the gleaming dagger from the countertop where they’d moved it, shaking his head unhappily. “This is celestial steel. Michael must have gotten it somehow. He… tricked us. In the Garden, he made us believe that he was starting to feel remorse for what he’d done, and clearly played up the amount of pain he was in so we wouldn’t chain him until he was ready for his session.</p><p>“Be honest, brother,” Amenadiel’s deep voice wafts in from the balcony on the warm breeze and Chloe notices Linda breathe a small sigh of relief. He enters the flat, but doesn’t fold his wings away, merely tucks them close to his shoulders. “He tricked <em>me.</em> You were properly cautious and wanted to chain him before we left. I was the one that argued that the small gesture of trust would help him heal. Would that I had listened to you when you warned me, he would still be alive.”</p><p>“Alive,” Chloe agrees acerbically, <em>“and plotting murder.”      </em></p><p>Arael nods solemnly as Amenadiel approaches them. “Chloe is right, Amenadiel. Michael would have managed to carry out his plan sooner or later… eventually we would have dropped our guard. We must be grateful that it worked out as well as it has thus far and not dwell on might-have-beens.”</p><p>Amenadiel looks as though he wants to argue, but the united front of Chloe, Arael, and Linda makes him think better of it.</p><p>“Dr. Martin, perhaps you should speak with my brother now, over lunch maybe?” Arael notices Chloe start to object, then bite her lip as her eyes dart out to the balcony. “While you’re handling that, I will escort Chloe to the Silver City to retrieve my brother.”</p><p>“Thank you,” she breathes, eyes shining with relief at Arael’s understanding of her need to go <em>now</em>.</p><p>“That’s a good plan, Arael,” Linda agrees, taking Amenadiel’s hand and starting to drag him toward the kitchen. “I’m starving, and I know Lucifer keeps his pantry well-stocked. Get him back here, because we’re <em>really</em> overdue for his session.”</p><p>“Yes ma’am,” Chloe salutes mockingly, and Linda throws a wink over her shoulder, still dragging the much larger angel behind her, wings flailing gently to keep his balance against her persistent tugging.</p><p>True to his word, Arael immediately leads the way to the balcony, shrugging his shoulders and fanning his russet-and-cream barred wings. The feathers reflect little metallic glints in the bright midday sunlight, and Chloe spares a moment to appreciate their beauty, even if she <em>is</em> partial to Lucifer’s brilliant white ones.</p><p>“Go ahead and bring out your wings, Chloe, you’ll need them to make the Crossing,” he urges, and she closes her eyes, focusing on what she still affectionately considers <em>Lucifer’s light</em> residing next to her heart, telling it what she <em>needs</em>.</p><p>After a moment she feels the spectral weight of them as they spread from her shoulders and she registers Arael’s awestruck exhalation. She opens her eyes to find him watching her with new regard.</p><p>“You know,” he offers conversationally, “many people incorrectly think that white is a lack of any color, when in reality it is the ultimate combination of <em>all</em> colors.” His gaze travels up and around and a wide grin spreads across his freckled face. “You and Lucifer truly are a pair… his wings are the white of visible light that contains all colors within it… and yours are of the light itself. Look.”</p><p>Chloe turns her head and gasps in wonder. She hadn’t seen her wings in bright light before—it was nearly dark when she’d gone to Hell after Lucifer, and the light in Heaven had been more like intense moonlight than bright sunlight. Her wings shimmer behind her like heat vapor, but on the walls and windows surrounding them she can see the fractal rainbows that the sunlight is sparking from them. Now that she’s looking, she can even see them dancing across Arael’s admiring face.</p><p>“They’re beautiful,” she breathes, lost for a moment in the sheer spectacle of a thousand flickering rainbows before she recalls that she has a mission. “Lucifer’s never going to let me live this down, and I just <em>know</em> he’s gonna tell Trixie so she pesters me until she gets to see this.”</p><p>Arael laughs softly and holds out his arms. “Come then, little sister-in-law, let’s go show him.”</p><p>The transfer with Arael isn’t quite as smooth as it had been with Lucifer; she doesn’t fit into his embrace the way she does into Lucifer’s—as though it’s where she’s <em>supposed to be</em>. But he also doesn’t crumble from the weight of the unaccustomed divinity. Instead, he steadies her and releases her as soon as she’s firmly got her feet under her. She looks around, unsure of their location. The star above pulses as it did before, and she only feels a little silly for thinking that it feels friendly toward her.</p><p>“Is he in the same tower as before?” She asks uncertainly, unable to remember how to get there.</p><p>“Not to worry, Chloe, I’ve asked Gabriel to come guide us, he should—ah, here he is now.” Chloe tilts her head back to follow Arael’s gaze and sees the now-familiar sturdy form with sleek tawny wings approaching them slowly.</p><p>“There really is no separating the two of you, is there,” Gabriel ponders aloud once he lands, much to Chloe’s irritation.</p><p>“Yeah, we’re kind of a matched set at this point, so please take us to him,” Chloe’s words are polite… more or less… but her tone leaves no room for argument and Gabriel sighs, turning to lead them to the Audience Chamber. Arael falls into step just behind Chloe, and it throws her a little off-balance because that’s normally where <em>Lucifer</em> walks.</p><p>“You <em>do</em> know our Father has no intention of harming him, right?” Gabriel asks, a little huffily.</p><p>“I know that your father’s definition of ‘harm’ is a little too loose for my liking, and I prefer to be there to watch his back in unfamiliar situations,” Chloe retorts. Behind her, Arael hurriedly turns a quiet chuckle into a cough at Gabriel’s scandalized glare. Her eyes glint silver-blue in the starlight as they meet Gabriel’s hazel ones steadily, and he picks up his pace a little which suits Chloe just fine. It doesn’t take them nearly as long to reach the tower as it did the first time… perhaps because last time Gabriel had been accounting for Lucifer’s divinity-induced weakness.</p><p>Chloe spots it in the distance—not difficult to do, as it <em>is</em> the tallest building here—and her pace increases to the point of practically running, before Gabriel’s suddenly in front of her, wings flared and blocking her path.</p><p>“You’ll need to wait out here until the audience is over,” he intones firmly. Chloe glares back, unimpressed while Arael settles in to watch the coming altercation with a faintly amused expression. Chloe spares him a glance and he shoots her a wink. She feels the knot in her gut loosening. <em>Arael thinks I can win this.</em></p><p>“That’s not going to happen,” Chloe crosses her arms calmly across her chest, her own insubstantial wings lifting stubbornly behind her, unconsciously making herself appear larger. “You’re not keeping me from him.”</p><p>“Ms. Decker, I’m not trying to keep you from him, I’ve brought you here, haven’t I?” Gabriel tries to aim for reasonable, but he’s coming across as patronizing, and Chloe wonders briefly if the Messenger is always this bad at communication, and if so, no <em>wonder</em> so many horrible things happened in the Bible. “I’m merely saying that you’ll have to wait for him to emerge once his audience with our father is complete.”</p><p>“I’m going in there,” she repeats with an edge to her voice now. She’s keeping a tight hold on her temper, but if he doesn’t—</p><p>“You’re most certainly <em>not</em>,” Gabriel snaps, vexed. “That is my Father’s tower, and <em>no one—"</em></p><p>“I don’t <em>care</em> if it’s God’s tower, <em>my partner</em> is in there, and I’m going after him!” Chloe roars, enraged. The fact that the Messenger’s face is a shade paler than it was tells her that her eyes are glowing again, but she can’t find it in her to be bothered. <em>“You’re not going to stop me.</em>”</p><p>She barrels past him and the door swings open at her touch, closing quietly on Arael’s bray of laughter and his howl of,</p><p>“Oh, brother, your <em>face—"</em></p><p>She once again finds herself in the tower room with no ceiling, with the blue squashy furniture in the center, though this time there are only two armchairs, not an armchair and a small couch. Apparently God hadn’t planned on her attendance. <em>Well, too bad.</em> Both men are standing, God as though he’s just risen from his chair, and Lucifer a decent distance away, restlessly straightening his cufflinks as he turns to face her with a dazzling smile.</p><p>“Detective, welcome!” his eyes hold the ghost of some emotion she can’t quite name from this distance, and his face is slightly flushed. “How is your offspring, darling? I thought you were going to stay with her—?"</p><p>“Trixie’s fine, it’s just a stomach bug,” she strides across the room to his right side, her spectral wings flaring aggressively behind her. She sidles in close, left wing hovering close behind him, but not—quite—mantling around him. She doesn’t even glance at God, her attention solely fixed on her partner. A dark bruise now fading to greenish-purple around the edges mars the curve of his jaw, and he has what appears to be a healing ligature mark around his throat, but he beams a smile at her that soothes her worries for now. “She’s with Dan, he told me some of what happened and I knew you needed me more right now. We got the penthouse cleaned up again.”</p><p>“Ah, thank you darling,” he grimaces, his arm slipping around her lower back and pulling her closer, “that can’t have been pleasant.”</p><p>“I had help,” she shrugs, her wings waving languidly in an echo of the movement. “And time to kill while I was waiting for my lift here. You’ll make it up to me.”</p><p>“I most certainly will,” he murmurs, pressing a brief kiss to her temple. He turns his attention back to God. “I think we were done, were we not?”</p><p>“I’ve said everything you’re ready to hear at this point in time,” he smiles a little sadly, his deep brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Speak with your Dr. Martin, s—Lucifer, and remember what I said about your actualization. Chloe, lovely to see you as always.”</p><p>“Hmm,” she replies noncommittally, and He chuckles quietly to himself. They cross the room to the door, which opens at their approach.</p><p>“Remember the Announcement—” God starts to call after them.</p><p>“Yes, yes yes,” Lucifer lifts a dismissive hand as he holds the door open for Chloe to pass through. “We’ll see you on Thursday, <em>you bastard.”</em></p><p>Chloe turns to look at him with a horrified expression, but she hears God’s booming laughter echoing in the tower as the door seals shut behind them. He smirks down at her.</p><p>What—?"</p><p>“Bit of an inside joke, darling, I’ll explain it later,” He glances around the courtyard, finding Arael reclining comfortably against the wall. “Hello brother, I assume I have you to thank for escorting Chloe to my rescue?”</p><p>“She just needed a little boost,” Arael grins wickedly, and Chloe can suddenly see a resemblance to Lucifer that she hadn’t noticed in him before. “I assure you, she did the heavy lifting herself, and it was glorious.”</p><p>“It was, wasn’t it?” He crows proudly. “We heard the tail end of the confrontation as she came bursting in the door. Was it Gabriel? Please tell me it was Gabriel.”</p><p>“It was Gabriel,” it’s Chloe’s turn to smirk now, and he turns his million-watt grin to her.</p><p>“Oh, Detective, you are utterly <em>brilliant</em>,” he sighs contentedly into her hair as he wraps her in his arms in preparation to cross the dimensional border. “I don’t know <em>anyone</em> else that can render the Messenger speechless.”</p><p>“C’mon, let’s go home. I’m hungry, and you’ve still got your session with Linda.” She turns her head against Lucifer’s shoulder—where she fits <em>perfectly</em>—and catches Arael’s eye. “Are you coming back with us?”</p><p>“I’m going to check in on my Garden, see how much damage Michael has done, and maybe speak to the Grigori about that dagger. I’ll see you both soon.”</p><p>“We still have <em>our</em> session with Linda, too,” Lucifer reminds her quietly, and she groans into his lapel. He feels her trembling against him, and his cheer at Gabriel being bested drains away, replaced immediately by concern. “I know, darling, but we can’t keep putting it off. Are you quite all right?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” she melts into him. “Please, let’s just go home?”</p><p>*</p><p>The sun has barely moved when they land gently on the balcony, Chloe barely even feeling the movement between Heaven and Earth. She reluctantly pulls away from him and spreads her wings as she prepares to tuck them away, and Lucifer’s breath catches in wonder.</p><p>“Detective, they’re even more exquisite in the light!” He exclaims admiringly, stretching out a hand and watching prismatic rainbows dance across his fingers as her crystalline feathers flex and shift in the brilliant sunlight. He flashes a teasing smile her direction, “Your offspring is going to <em>love</em> this.”</p><p>She wrinkles her nose at him, but focuses on tucking them away rather than delivering a scathing retort. Once they’re out of sight, she sinks onto the chaise and tugs him down beside her.</p><p>“Are you okay? Will you tell me what happened?” she folds his large hand between her smaller ones and holds it in her lap, affectionately stroking his long fingers.</p><p>“I believe I asked you first, Detective,” he points out gently, placing the broad palm of his left hand over the top of their joined ones. “I don’t believe you’re fine at all. What happened here while I was gone?”</p><p>She shivers at the word ‘gone,’ but pulls herself together. “I’m fine now, I promise—it’s only that… I, um. I got here sooner than Amenadiel thought I would, and I found…” her eyes slide into the penthouse, and Lucifer knows immediately where her eyes come to rest.</p><p>“You found Michael’s body,” he closes his eyes, his shoulders tensing in regret and as usual when he’s anxious his mouth goes into overdrive. “I am so sorry Detective, I had hoped to spare you that—I know as an officer of the law you’re duty-bound to report criminal activity, and obviously you needed to <em>know</em> what happened… but I’d hoped—perhaps foolishly—that if you didn’t actually <em>see</em> the body you could let it pass. Like with Marco?  Oh dear, I am leading you to an incredibly slippery slope, aren’t I? I really don’t kn—”</p><p>
  <em>SLAP!</em>
</p><p>Chloe had started to try to interrupt his filibuster with his apology, but then she’d registered <em>what</em> he was apologizing for and fury rears its head like a striking cobra. Lucifer’s hand lifts to rest against his bruised jaw where her slap had landed, eyes full of hurt and confusion and jaw slack in astonishment. The palm of her hand stings fiercely, but she draws it back to strike again in outrage and this time he snaps his hand up and wraps his fingers gently around her wrist, stopping her momentum.</p><p><em>“Lucifer Morningstar,</em>” she hisses furiously, and a small corner of his mind is impressed to note that even in her rage, she manages to keep her eyes from glowing. <em>Of course, she’s quite intimidating enough without the glow.</em> “You think I’m upset because… because we’re not reporting your psychopath former archangel twin’s murder?!”</p><p>“Y-yes?” he flinches back as though he’s sure he’s just given the wrong answer, but can’t help but answer the question truthfully. When he meets her eyes again she sees a faint shadow of fear though, as though he’s <em>sure</em> that this, <em>this</em> will be the final straw. She thinks of that too-familiar body sprawled in the puddle of coagulated blood and as the wall of her temper crumbles the grief floods in. She lets the tears come again as she reaches forward and grabs the back of his neck roughly, pulling him in for a desperate kiss. The intimate taste of him, of his soft lips warm against hers, his heart pounding beneath the hand he releases in surprise at her sudden movement and <em>his</em> unique scent all work to soothe her, and she feels the moment he overcomes his surprise at her sudden change in tactics when he wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer. They don’t part until the small sound of a throat clearing nearby breaks into their personal bubble.</p><p>Chloe pulls away just far enough to rest her forehead against his, refusing to let him go just yet.</p><p>“I’m sorry I slapped you,” she whispers against his mouth.</p><p>“I’m sure I deserved it,” he rumbles back, “though I’m not yet sure I know <em>why.</em>”</p><p>Amenadiel clears his throat again and this time Linda’s stifled chuckle joins it and the pair finally break apart to acknowledge their company.</p><p>Amenadiel smirks and Lucifer glowers back at him, but no one speaks until Linda says simply,</p><p>“You’re late for your session. Let’s go, you two.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0042"><h2>42. I Really Don't See What the Fuss is About</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Linda ushers the pair of them into her “office” and closes the door. There’s no couch here, only chairs, so Linda chooses the one situated alone, and Chloe and Lucifer sit in the others.</p><p>“Lucifer, I really wanted to do your single session before this one,” Linda begins without preamble, “but after what I just witnessed upstairs, I thought we should probably get this one started right away.”</p><p>“It was only a little kiss, Doctor, I really don’t see what the fuss is about?” Lucifer tilts his head, confused, but Linda notes the red flush creeping up Chloe’s neck and face.</p><p>“I’m not talking about the kiss, Lucifer,” Linda shakes her head slowly, “I’m talking about the slap that preceded it.”</p><p>“Ah!” Lucifer’s face relaxes and he leans back in his chair, glancing sideways at Chloe, whose gaze is fixed on her fidgeting hands in her lap. “Yes, we haven’t had a chance yet to discuss exactly what I’ve done to deserve that. I’m rather curious to know, actually, Detective.”</p><p>“Let’s start with everyone getting caught up on what happened this morning when Michael arrived at the penthouse,” Linda interjects quickly. “Lucifer?”</p><p>“I was making Eve coffee while we waited for Daniel’s session to close when he made his presence known, boasting about having his gift of Command back,” Lucifer’s nose wrinkles in distaste. He pours himself a glass of water and immediately empties it. “I never much cared for that one, far too close to depriving free will entirely. Poor Eve went white as a sheet and I tried to get her to run, but she seemed to be a bit paralyzed. I made sure she was hidden and went to meet him, hoping she’d take the time to get out. We traded words—I really couldn’t tell you specifics, I was more focused on keeping him distracted than on paying attention to what he was saying. He threatened my friends, and goaded me about… about Uriel, and my Devil face broke free.”</p><p>He laughs, but it’s brittle and Linda leans forward anxiously. Chloe scoots her chair closer so she can reach over and grab the hand he’s clenched on his thigh, pulling it into her lap and massaging it until his fist relaxes and she can thread her fingers between his.</p><p>“Oh, he liked that, seeing <em>his handiwork</em>.” Lucifer growls, staring down into his empty glass. “We fought. Well, you saw the mess we left behind, Detective. Even though he’s not at full strength, he has plenty of experience to draw on. Without my wings, we were pretty evenly matched.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you use your wings, Lucifer?” Chloe bursts out exasperatedly, “You had every right to defend yourself!”</p><p>“I brought out my wings when he pulled out a celestial dagger. I <em>warned him </em>that I would fight back this time, that I…” his voice gives out and he swallows hard, forcing down the lump that’s trying to form. He coughs, pours himself another glass of water and tosses it back, wishing it were whiskey instead. Chloe hates the hollow look in his warm brown eyes. “That I didn’t want his blood on my hands, but I wouldn’t go down without a fight. I couldn’t let him hurt the people I care about anymore.”</p><p>“Then what happened?” Linda asks gently. She’s been mentally following along and matching point-to-point with Eve’s tale. Eve remembered <em>all</em> the things Michael and Lucifer had talked about, and her recounting of the fight was much more graphic. Linda knows what’s coming next.</p><p>“He told me he was going to enjoy killing me again,” he recalls quietly, and Chloe flinches, pulling his hand to her chest and gripping it tightly. “He’d told me earlier that he was going to Command one of my brothers to release my body into a star this time. He started to move toward me with the dagger, and that’s when Eve struck from the hallway, just behind him and out of sight. He never even knew she was there. <em>I</em> didn’t even realize she was there, I thought she’d <em>run</em> like I told her to…” He stares blankly at the floor in front of him, as though he can see his brother’s body sprawled there even now. “It wasn’t more than a minute or two later that Amenadiel and Arael arrived, with Gabriel on their heels summoning me to the Silver City for an audience. So I sent Amenadiel to you and tasked him with burying Michael before the Detective got back, and asked Arael to help Eve clean up—she seemed so lost, Doctor, she shouldn’t have—she should have let me handle him. I hope you can help her if she feels guilty… she doesn’t need to let this send her to Hell.”</p><p>“You can let Eve and me worry about Eve, Lucifer,” Linda smiles at him to take any sting out of her words, and he glances up at her hopefully. “I think she’s viewing it less as a murder and more as an act of vengeance, and maybe a little mercy. Try not add her situation to your plate, okay?”</p><p>“I…” he trails off at her sharp look and his words die on his lips. “I’ll try.”</p><p>“That brings us to when Eve came down here for her session, then. Chloe, will you walk us through what happened when you came back to Lux?” Linda prompts gently.</p><p>“Dan texted me as I was picking up Trixie from school, to bring her to my apartment because Michael had gotten loose.” Chloe tells her lap quietly as Lucifer turns to regard her more fully, perplexed at her suddenly subdued demeanor. She’s still clutching his hand and he gently squeezes her fingers. “I practically threw Trix at Dan and got to Lux as fast as I could, and when I walked off the elevator… the penthouse was a <em>wreck</em>. Everything shattered, upturned, and… the body was just lying there in a huge puddle of blood, and—” her voice gives out and he feels her chest hitch against the back of his hand, which she’s clutching as though it’s the only thing that’s keeping her from being pulled under by a crushing wave of grief. “I thought he was <em>you</em>, Lucifer… I… I thought I’d lost you <em>again</em>, and I couldn’t…”</p><p>“Oh,” Lucifer sighs, glancing helplessly at Linda as Chloe starts to sob. The good Doctor lifts her eyebrows back at him and waits. “Detective—Chloe, it—it didn’t even <em>occur</em> to me that you might think it was my body—”</p><p>“You’re <em>identical twins</em>, Lucifer,” she hiccups, still trying to contain the sobs threatening to overpower her. “He was face-down on the floor, of <em>course </em>I thought it was you!”</p><p>“But—” he stammers, “His hair was all wrong! Those clothes were so… so… ‘Heaven’s Most Wanted’! And clearly I am <em>not</em> dead if I’m sitting right here beside you and facing your ire?”</p><p>It’s the clothes comment that breaks through her building hysteria, because it <em>had </em>been the clothes that had tipped her off, and nearly immediately... but not before she’d had time to feel that first wave of panic. She huffs a wet laugh that’s more than half a sob, but the laughter gains force once it’s free, and now she really does start to cackle like the demented witch on crack Lucifer had accused her of sounding like.</p><p>“Oh bollocks,” she hears him murmur beside her. “Have I broken her, Doctor?”</p><p>“Let’s give her a moment to get it out of her system,” Linda decides, as Chloe continues to crack up. “Why don’t you tell me about your <em>first </em>meeting with God in the meantime?”</p><p>So Lucifer fills Linda in on their meeting with God last night while discreetly watching Chloe pull herself together.</p><p>“You <em>really</em> disowned God?” Linda asks reverently, and Lucifer laughs outright.</p><p>“That actually felt pretty good, Doctor,” he admits cheerfully, “Nearly as good as punching him in the face would have been… but I’d like to retain my visiting rights, and that… well. It’s a good thing the Detective was there to remind me to behave accordingly.”</p><p>“I didn’t have to remind you, Lucifer,” Chloe manages, with only a single hiccup, “you did great all on your own.”</p><p>“How are you feeling about that decision now?” Linda wonders, and a brief flicker of emotion crosses Lucifer’s face, too fast to identify.</p><p>“I had a small revelation when I returned to the Silver City today. Gabriel took me to the Audience Chamber, and I realized I didn’t know what to call the old man, so when I walked in I asked Him if I should call Him God, or El, or Yahweh, or what have you.” Lucifer chuckles dryly. “He had the nerve to say He’d always had a bit of a laugh when I’d yelled at Him and called Him a bastard, so that’s what I went with.”</p><p>“You called God a bastard… to His <em>face?” </em>Linda’s not sure if she’s impressed or horrified.  With Lucifer it’s often an unfortunate combination of both.</p><p>“He had to know I’d take Him up on it,” Lucifer winks at her, “and honestly, it <em>was</em> quite therapeutic in its own right. Not only did I get to <em>do it</em>, but I got to be <em>sure He heard me.”</em></p><p>“So it still matters to you that He listens to you.” Linda’s sharp insight prickles him and he stiffens.</p><p>“Not particularly,” he dissembles, “but it’s always nice when an insult actually gets acknowledged by the target. It’s not very satisfying to scream at the sky and <em>know </em>you’re being ignored.”</p><p>“What else did you talk about?”</p><p>“He’s set the date for His grand announcement,” he notices Chloe’s head perk up at that, and turns to face her again, “He set it for Thursday, apparently you have the day off.”</p><p>“God knows my work schedule,” Chloe snorts softly, “Why is that somehow not surprising, yet terrifying.”</p><p>“I typically prefer to fly under the old man’s radar myself, darling, I can’t blame you for feeling the same.”</p><p>“So that’s it? He dragged you up to Heaven to give you an invitation?” Linda probes deeper, and knows she’s struck something when Lucifer starts to fidget again.</p><p>“No… there was more,” he admits reluctantly, sighing. “He told me… that I needed to talk to you about what happened with Michael. He told me that it… wasn’t my fault.”</p><p>“Of course it wasn’t your fault, Lucifer,” Chloe looks askance at him. “No one’s saying it’s your fault, Michael came after <em>you</em>. Multiple times. Unprovoked.”</p><p>Lucifer shifts uncomfortably in his chair, but doesn’t respond to Chloe’s assertion. Linda watches his cagey expression and sighs.</p><p>“Oh, Lucifer,” she murmurs softly, “<em>why</em> do you think you feel guilty for Michael’s death?”</p><p>“I… I don’t <em>know</em>, Doctor,” he sighs heavily and rubs the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.  “But Da—God was adamant that I needed to not let it best me, or my self-actualization is going to do something unpleasant.”</p><p>“All right,” Linda replies carefully. “We’ll address that more in your individual session, shall we? Did you talk about anything else?”</p><p>“Yes,” the confession has the feeling behind it of being pulled out unwillingly. “He said… He said he couldn’t see much of what happened to me in Hell because… well, a couple of reasons: one, it’s apparently difficult because of the whole no-divinity-in-the-atmosphere thing, and two, apparently he <em>missed me</em>, so he just… found other things to do to keep him occupied.”</p><p>“He <em>told you that?”</em> Chloe’s outraged outburst is barely more than a strangled gasp, and Linda silently agrees. <em>What on earth was He thinking?</em></p><p>“Oh, He did,” Lucifer assures them dryly. “In the same breath as letting me know that, even though I’ve disowned Him, He still considers me His son. It was shortly after that when you waltzed in to the rescue, Detective.”</p><p>“And what happened when Chloe arrived?”</p><p>“Not much, He reminded me about the Announcement on Thursday, I scandalized the Detective by calling Him ‘you bastard’ one more time on the way out, then we came home.”</p><p>“Which brings us to the scene I witnessed between the two of you on the balcony—”</p><p>“Yes, where did you come in on that little <em>tête-à-tête</em>, Doctor? I’m afraid I was a bit distracted.”</p><p>“I arrived in time to hear you apologizing to Chloe about finding Michael’s body still at the penthouse,” Linda confesses unapologetically, and the embarrassed flush crawls back up Chloe’s neck and face again. “And I was close enough to read the expression on your face when Chloe slapped you, Lucifer, so don’t waste time pretending that it didn’t hurt.”</p><p>“Of course it didn’t hurt—well, perhaps a little, but only because it managed to hit the area that Michael had already—”</p><p>“I wasn’t talking about physical pain, Lucifer, and I think you know that,” she chides firmly, “though I’m sure that that bruise is rather painful. You looked confused, and betrayed.”</p><p>He manages a scoff, but since he doesn’t lie, he can’t argue. Chloe’s seemingly insignificant slap to his face had caused an inordinate amount of pain in his chest.</p><p>“I was… just… surprised,” Lucifer dissembles, not looking at either of them. Tears sting Chloe’s eyes at the way he deflates, and she recalls with far too much detail the look of hurt and confusion in his eyes as he’d laid his hand carefully against his throbbing cheek. “I wasn’t expecting that reaction to an apology, but then I thought maybe… maybe it was because I didn’t want to report the death—but…”</p><p>“That wasn’t why, Lucifer,” Chloe interrupts gently, and her heart breaks a little at his suppressed wince when she breaks her silence. <em>“Why</em> doesn’t really matter, because I shouldn’t have done it—I regretted it the instant I managed to break out of my… anger, my fear.”</p><p>“I think <em>why</em> really does matter here, Chloe,” Linda doesn’t let her dodge the point. “I think Lucifer deserves to know.”</p><p>“I was upset because…” she keeps her gaze on her hands, still wrapped securely around Lucifer’s as she struggles to put her feelings into words, and both he and Linda give her a moment to wrestle with it. “I was <em>crushed</em> when I saw Michael’s body and thought it was Lucifer’s. I figured it out pretty quickly, but those heartbeats between <em>‘Lucifer no’</em> and <em>‘Not Lucifer!’</em> seemed to last a hundred years.” She turns to look him in the eye, and hers are filled with tears. “It brought back <em>every time</em> I’ve lost you—or almost lost you—again, and… and you were apologizing because you thought I’d be mad about <em>not doing my job!”</em></p><p>“Your job is very important to you, Detective,” he offers tentatively, “that’s why you’re the best.”</p><p><em>“You</em> are more important to me, Lucifer,” she declares, and his brow furrows in confusion. “But I don’t know how to make you <em>see that</em>, and it breaks my heart every time you can’t understand that losing you—or even <em>thinking </em>I’ve lost you again—could break me beyond repair.”</p><p>“So, you slapped me because I tried to do the right thing, but because I did it for the wrong reason?” He attempts, after thinking about it for a moment.</p><p>“Lucifer, you did the right thing by trying to avoid Chloe having to see your identical twin’s body,” Linda assures him, stepping in to give them both some time to settle down. “I think perhaps Chloe’s physical reaction was based on her residual fear of losing you, and her frustration at you undervaluing the positive impact of your continued presence in her life.”</p><p>A look of relief spreads across Chloe’s face at hearing her emotions put into words much more clearly than she was currently capable of, but Lucifer looks (rather predictably) confused.</p><p>“But… I’m <em>not</em> dead, I’m right here?” His right hand moves to press against his chest, as though double-checking to be sure he <em>was</em>, in fact, corporeal. He pales a little, then places the hand in his trouser pocket as Linda continues.</p><p>“Okay, think for a moment about our session last week,” she gives him a moment, “Do you remember what we discussed about what you felt when your friends were in danger?”</p><p>“Of course I do, Doctor, my memory is nearly perfect,” he darts a look at Chloe and swallows hard.</p><p>“Chloe’s alive and healthy, she’s right next to you. Yet you can still feel some of that fear, can’t you,” it’s not a question, but he nods slowly. She makes eye contact with Lucifer, then Chloe, including them both in her next words. “You—both of you—have been stuck in survival mode for far too long. In order to thrive together, we're going to need to work through those fears so you can actually start to live, rather than merely exist. Like this—” she gestures to their joined hands, each holding tightly to the other, “I’m glad to see you’ve adopted this technique and applied it so well that you barely even think about it anymore. Linking yourselves this way helps facilitate the communication you’re working to build.”</p><p>It was a suggestion she’d made to Lucifer, basing it off <em>both</em> of their tendencies to withdraw from the other when hurt or upset. When they come to a situation or a discussion that was likely to be stressful, revealing or painful, they would join hands, and <em>not let go</em> until the situation was resolved, or until they were calm enough to put the subject aside for another time. She <em>knew</em> Lucifer would never physically hurt Chloe, but she hadn’t considered that Chloe would consider striking Lucifer. She makes a note to discuss this further with Chloe in her next individual session.</p><p>“It’s time to start re-evaluating your stress responses if you’re serious about rebuilding your trust, and learning to stop pushing one another away during times of stress.”</p><p>“I'm a cop,” Chloe argues weakly, “I have to trust my reactions to keep me alive.”</p><p>“Yes, you do, but you're going to need to start differentiating between day-to-day situations and the ones where you actually need those reactions to survive. You don’t pull your gun whenever Trixie makes an unexpected noise at home. You said yourself, Chloe, that when confronted with something emotionally upsetting you tend to either shut down, or run. How has that worked for you in your relationships?”</p><p>“Not great,” she concedes guiltily.</p><p>“And Lucifer?”</p><p>“Considerably <em>less</em> than ‘not great’,” he offers wryly, and Chloe snorts, squeezing his hand in hers.</p><p>“The two of you react similarly to many situations—which is one reason you work so well together,” Linda praises them before flipping the coin, “but it’s also the main reason you are so <em>very</em> good at inflicting pain on each other. Lucifer, when you assume that the thought of losing you wouldn’t have a lasting effect on Chloe, it hurts her. And Chloe, when you strike out at Lucifer—physically <em>or </em>emotionally—it can leave a far deeper psychological wound than any hell-forged blade of Maze’s.”</p><p>Both of them flinch back into their chairs, but their hands remain clasped and Linda smiles to herself. <em>This is going to work out.</em></p><p>“We have our work cut out for us, my friends, but I think you’re both committed to rebuilding a solid foundation of trust and communication. Habits are hard to break, it takes persistent effort and lots of support.”</p><p>She hand-writes some notes of things for them to consider and start to work on until their next session, and feels a fierce glow of pride that their hands remained joined even as they leave the room.</p><p>Their joint session had lasted over two hours, and everyone felt mentally flayed afterward. Lucifer nobly offers to skip his individual session, but Linda isn’t having any of that, opting instead for an early dinner and a break instead. Lucifer manages to convince Linda and Amenadiel to go <em>out</em> for dinner (his treat, of course), but it takes significantly more persuading to talk Chloe into going to spend time with her daughter.</p><p>“It will be the perfect test of your divinity, Detective!” he wheedles, “To see if it can fend off those mutant microorganisms that abound at those educational facilities!”</p><p>Finally Chloe’s need to check on her sick daughter overcomes her fear of leaving Lucifer alone, and she reluctantly leaves him on his balcony with a full tumbler and a lit cigarette.</p><p>*</p><p>By the time Linda arrives back at Lux, Lucifer has had some time to self-medicate, and he’s feeling just slightly less on-edge. She finds him on his balcony, and since there’s no one else there, she simply joins him. As she approaches, he’s holding out his right hand, seemingly studying his ring, but he tucks it back into his trouser pocket as she gets closer.</p><p>“I know our session earlier was a difficult one,” Linda apologizes gently, “but I didn’t feel comfortable putting off your individual session for another day, I feel like you’ve gotten spiritual beatings in addition to your physical ones recently, and I wanted to make sure we had our chance to talk.”</p><p>“As I told my siblings earlier today, I make a tempting target,” Lucifer grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.</p><p>“Did you have a chance to think about our discussion during your session last week?”</p><p>“About letting my friends choose me back?” his lips twist a wry approximation of a smile. “Yes, I had a discussion with the Detective about that... I’m working on it.”</p><p>“Good,” she nods, watching him carefully, “What about what you said about God being unable to love you? Have your conversations with Him over the past couple of days brought anything new to light?”</p><p>“He admitted to listening, when I’ve been screaming at Him. Or <em>about</em> Him. He admitted to… missing me… while I was gone. He… he told me he was <em>proud</em> of me.”</p><p>“How did you feel when he told you those things?”</p><p>“I was <em>bloody livid</em>, Doctor,” Lucifer growls. “He’d just admitted that He’d taken literally <em>no part</em> in the trials and tortures I’ve been through, that any improvements I’ve managed to make have been entirely of my own doing—who is <em>He</em> to claim pride in what <em>I</em> have done without him?”</p><p>“Are you proud of Chloe?”</p><p>“What?” his anger derails at this apparent non-sequitur. “Of course I am, Doctor, you know how amazing she is.”</p><p>“Do you feel that, by taking pride in her accomplishments, that you’re crediting yourself for them?”</p><p>“Of course not,” he scoffs, offended. “The Detective is an incredible person all on her own. But I’ve been <em>with</em> her, beside her as well as I could be, every step of the way, cheering her on and supporting her.”</p><p>“Maybe,” she pauses, drawing out the word carefully, “that’s how God feels about <em>your</em> accomplishments.”</p><p>“I thought you’d given up trying to figure out my… His motivations, Doctor,” Lucifer sounds tired, and she notes the new stress lines around his eyes. “But I at least know for certain now that He hasn’t been manipulating me for eons, which means…” he hesitates, looking up the sky uncertainly.</p><p>“Go on,” she urges, leaning forward encouragingly</p><p>“If He wasn’t manipulating me, with my wings, my face, with the Detective… then <em>everything</em> I’ve been blaming him for is <em>my fault</em>. I’ve done it all to myself.” He tries a laugh, but it rings hollow, and she notices the hand in his pocket form into a fist. “I’m <em>doing</em> it all to myself.”</p><p>“Don't you see? This is progress.” She smiles widely, though his expression is confused. “Genuine progress. Unraveling these patterns of denial is the first step toward resolving these issues.”</p><p>“No, doctor, <em>this</em> isn't progress. Because if I'm doing this to myself, then the real truth is...” he pulls his hand from his pocket, holding it open in front of him again, staring at the back of it in dawning horror.</p><p>“Is what? Is what?” she prompts earnestly, “Come on, Lucifer. This will weigh on you unless you face it head on. The real truth is what?”</p><p>“There <em>is</em> something rotten inside of me,” he whispers, and the pain in his voice is so thick that it’s nearly unrecognizable from his normal cultivated tone. “I’m working so hard to be better, to… to <em>do</em> better. All of you, my friends, you tell me that you love me, that you want me here. And yet… I find it near impossible to drown out the constant cacophony of voices whispering in my ear, telling me I am evil. I'm drowning, Doctor!” This last is shouted, and he clasps his right hand within his left tightly. “And I can't stop wondering... <em>why do I hate myself so much?”</em> He heaves a few ragged breaths before glancing down at his hand again, and his eyes are bleak. “And now this,” he murmurs, as though to himself.</p><p>“And now… what?” Linda probes, following his gaze. His eyes dart up to hers cautiously and he slowly pulls his left hand away, reluctantly showing her the back of his hand. The skin all across the back is deep red and ridged, as though it’s been melted and re-solidified. “Lucifer… is that… like your face?”</p><p>“Yes,” he muses absently, still staring at it with morbid fascination. Fear creeps into his voice as he continues quietly, “I noticed it during our session earlier, but it was only a tiny patch of skin. It’s been… growing since then. I don’t know what to do, don’t know what I <em>need</em> to do to make it stop, Doctor. I don’t… I don’t want to be a monster.”</p><p>“Okay. Okay.” Linda gathers her scattered thoughts quickly. “We know subconsciously... you control what happens to your own body. So, some part of you is reacting to this revelation.”</p><p>“Yes, and it doesn't seem thrilled,” he interjects humorlessly.</p><p>“Your, um, God told you that you needed to get a handle on your <em>guilt </em>or your self-actualization was going to do something—what if this is what He was talking about? Look, Lucifer, it’s okay to be afraid, but… I think you need to step forward here. You need to dig deeper. If you really hate yourself... you need to figure out <em>why.”</em></p><p>“And how do I do that, Doctor?” he grouses anxiously, staring back at his hand again. “I… I don’t even know where to <em>begin!”</em></p><p>“Maybe we should start with why you feel guilty?” Linda suggests gently, “Since that’s what, uh, God warned you about specifically, it seems a reasonable starting point.”</p><p>“All right, Doctor,” he agrees tentatively, standing up and beginning to pace the length of the balcony. “So… why do I feel guilty for Michael’s death? Why <em>should</em> I feel guilty for it? It doesn’t make any bloody sense! I didn’t <em>do</em> anything to bring him after me, I would have been perfectly content to keep a healthy distance for the rest of eternity!”</p><p>“That’s a good start,” Linda allows, “acknowledging that Michael attacked you for no valid, logical reason. You’ve really got to <em>accept</em> that you had no control over Michael’s actions, or Eve’s. Michael made his decisions to viciously attack you on multiple occasions, and Eve made hers to put a stop to it. There was nothing you could have done to change their determined outcomes.”</p><p>“Eve shouldn’t have <em>needed</em> to act—Doctor, what if her guilt winds up sending her to Hell when she dies?  For protecting <em>me?” </em>He shakes his head, coursing his fingers through his hair. “I should have—”</p><p>“Constantly thinking of should-have-could-have-would-haves isn’t going to help you, Lucifer,” Linda admonishes firmly. “It’s <em>easy</em> to think of alternate courses of action after the heat of a moment has passed. You didn’t <em>want</em> the blood of a brother on your hands, but you were willing to take action when required. For what it’s worth, I’m glad it didn’t fall to you.”</p><p><em>“Another</em> brother,” he murmurs quietly, clenching his right hand into a fist again. “I didn’t want the blood of <em>another</em> brother on my hands.”</p><p>“I thought you were doing better about Uriel’s death?” Linda probes gently, and his downturned gaze tells her everything she needs to know. “Lucifer, what happened?”</p><p>“There was… we had a case last week, we just finished it up yesterday actually. An identical twin was murdered, and the prime suspect was the twin—and I thought…”</p><p>“Of course you thought of Michael.” He nods, eyes still locked on his clenched fist and the patch of skin there.</p><p>“But it wasn’t the twin at all. The younger sister had stolen some money from their company and had lost it all in a scam investment, and the victim had confronted her about it, had said something about her ‘ruining everything she touches’, and suddenly it wasn’t Michael and me, it was… it was me and Uriel.” Harsh, rasping breaths whine in his chest as he grits out the next words, “Because I <em>do too</em>.”</p><p>“You haven’t ruined everything, Lucifer,” she corrects him carefully. “You help put away murderers every day. You care deeply for your friends, and your family, and would never hurt them intentionally, without cause. We <em>all</em> make mistakes, but you’re not seeing yourself clearly. Why are you still blaming yourself for Uriel?”</p><p>“I should have done something more about returning Mum to Hell. Then Uriel would never have come to Earth and he would still be here, boring the new arrivals to the Silver City with his tedious welcome speech.”</p><p>“What could you have done?” Linda presses, and he gapes at her blankly. “No really, what <em>could</em> you have done, Lucifer?  You didn’t have your wings to return her to Hell. Amenadiel didn’t have his wings. Killing the body would have only sent her back to Hell where she could have popped right back up—and she probably wouldn’t have approached you again. She would have been free to wreak havoc and you couldn’t have done anything about it! She was the Divine Goddess, one of your creators, and even more powerful than you are, what <em>could</em> you have possibly done to contain that? You told me that you didn’t even have the option of using the <em>blade</em> until Uriel brought it to Earth.”</p><p>“I… I could have found <em>something</em>, surely,” he groans.</p><p>“And have you?” She waits, eyebrows lifted in inquiry. “In the months between the time you sent your mother away and now, have you managed to come up with one single realistic solution that’s <em>better</em> than the outcome you managed?”</p><p>“No,” he whispers, “but—”</p><p>“No ‘buts’, Lucifer,” she interrupts ruthlessly, “another thing you need to start doing is acknowledging that there are some positives that have come out of these situations. Chloe and your mother are both safe, even if your mother is no longer in… this… universe,” <em>Hoo boy does that feel strange to say with a real-life context to it.</em> “Michael can’t hurt anyone else ever again. Eve stood up for herself. And you get your chance to live your life on your terms.”</p><p>“Doctor, I know all those things are true,” Lucifer argues hopelessly, “but I don’t know how to <em>stop feeling guilty.”</em></p><p>“Lucifer…” she considers for a moment, taking in his broken expression. “If it were <em>anyone</em> else but you in this situation, would you say they were responsible for what’s happened?”</p><p>“Well, you must admit that if I were not <em>here</em>, none of you would <em>be</em> in this situation,” Lucifer prevaricates.</p><p>“That’s not the question I asked, Lucifer,” she redirects persistently. “Would you blame <em>me</em>, if I were sitting where you are now?  Would you blame Ella?  Or Dan?”</p><p>“Of course not, don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffs, scooping up his glass of water and clutching it desperately. “But none of you are <em>me.”</em></p><p>“And why is it different for you?”</p><p>“Because… I’m <em>the devil!”</em> he cries, and his voice breaks. <em>“Everything</em> is my fault!”</p><p>“You’re wrong,” she tells him flatly, and he gapes at her silently. The soft alarm signaling the end of the session goes off in her pocket, and she silences it. “You’re retired now, right? You wanted to <em>stop</em> being the devil—Hell, you never wanted to <em>be</em> the devil. You have to stop judging yourself more harshly than you judge others, Lucifer, or it’s going to eat you alive. You can just be <em>you</em> now.”</p><p>“I…” his face crumples and drops his glass back onto the table, running his palms up and digging the heels into his eyes. His voice is muffled by his hands as he breathes, “I don’t know how.”</p><p>“I want you to think about this Lucifer, very carefully over the next few days, okay?” Linda relents a little, standing to cross the room and lay a supporting hand on his broad shoulder. “I’m going to schedule you another session on Wednesday, and we’ll see if, between the two of us we can come up with some ideas.”</p><p>“All right, Doctor,” he mumbles wearily as he stands. “Thank you for today. Now that we no longer have Michael to account for, I think we should probably all be able to make our own appointments going forward, do you agree? I know these sessions can’t be easy for you.”</p><p>“Whatever you prefer, just make sure you keep <em>your</em> sessions scheduled. I actually don’t mind the change of scenery, and it can be slightly helpful for me to see all my Celestial-centric clients in succession, so I don’t have to keep recalibrating my reality filter.”  She grins up at him and he smiles tentatively.</p><p>“Is that a real thing?” he asks, curious.</p><p>“It most definitely is.”</p><p>*</p><p>It’s nearly 6 PM when the lift deposits Lucifer back in his perpetually bare penthouse. He curses to himself at the loss of yet another piano, and just as he’d been getting to know her!</p><p>
  <em>I’ll have to call tomorrow to arrange another… I should consider buying in bulk.</em>
</p><p>He considers going down to Lux to play, but the spot on his hand seems to have grown a bit larger, and he opts to stay upstairs. He can’t let Chloe see this.</p><p><strong><em>How is the Urchin feeling? </em></strong> He sends the text and sets his phone down, not expecting an immediate response. He’s surprised when he gets one.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>She’s running a fever now, but it’s low-grade. She’s clingy right now, I’ll head back once she’s asleep.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p><strong><em>Don’t be ridiculous, your offspring needs you there. I’ll be fine.</em></strong>  He sighs in relief, he’s just won some time to get his guilt under control without concerning her.</p><p><strong><em>You sure?</em></strong> He’s typing his response to this when his phone rings in his hand. Seeing ‘My Detective’ flash across the screen makes him chuckle as he answers.</p><p>“Of course I’m sure, Detective,” he says by way of greeting. “Your offspring needs you, and I have plenty here to keep me busy enough that I can grudgingly spare you.”</p><p>“If you’re really sure,” she allows, “as long as it’s grudging. Trix doesn’t get sick often, but when she does she usually wants me close. She’s been asking for you, though.”</p><p>“Pass along my wishes for a speedy recovery, but I’ll be finagling contractors for repairs and replacing my liquor stocks… again,” he sighs dramatically. “This has been a catastrophic month for my favorite limited stock whiskies, Detective, truly.”</p><p>“Hmm,” she murmurs teasingly, “good thing you’re rich.”</p><p>“Indeed.”</p><p>“How was your session?  Are you sure you’re okay to be on your own tonight?”</p><p>“Quite all right, darling,” he reassures her earnestly. With a wicked sparkle in his eyes, he adds, “But if you find you’re having trouble sleeping, do feel free to call, I think you’ll find I’m quite good at—”</p><p>“Okay, Lucifer, you’re fine, I get it!” she cuts him off, and they laugh together. “You’ll call me if you change your mind?”</p><p>“I won’t, but I do appreciate the offer, Detective,” his voice rings with sincerity and he softly continues with, “I love you.”</p><p>“I love you, too,” she murmurs into his ear and he releases a contented sigh at the flare of their link in his chest. “I’ll call you later, okay?”</p><p>“Oooh, really?” he chirps hopefully, and her laughter rings in his ear again.</p><p>“Gross,” he can almost <em>hear </em>the eye roll. “Just to say good night.”</p><p>“If you insist, love, but the offer stands,” he runs his tongue along his teeth, hoping she’ll take him up on it, but knowing it’s highly unlikely. <em>A devil can dream.</em> She’s still laughing as she disconnects the call, and he looks fondly at his phone for a moment before he catches sight of the leathery skin on his hand and sobers instantly.</p><p>“Right,” he says aloud. “Let’s see what I can learn about guilt, then.”</p><p>Three hours and seventeen Google searches later, he’s about to throw his phone through the antique Assyrian wall.</p><p>“I’m abso-bloody-lutely positive that my imaginary half-brother isn’t going to do a damn thing to take this guilt from me,” he hisses at the tiny screen in his hand, “And God’s the one that told <em>me</em> to work on it, I doubt he’s going to help either, you wanker!” He pulls in a calming breath and takes a deep draught of scotch from one of the decanters Chloe had managed to salvage from the wreckage of his shattered shelves. “Dearie me, I knew the church was a downright guilt factory, but no wonder we had so many borderline cases with advice like that…”</p><p>He decides to put down the phone before he breaks it (or throws it and then has to have the wall repaired as well), and starts putting together his order for his alcohol. Fortunately, he has plenty of decanters from his last order— those get broken with enough regularity that he found a very nice bulk deal when Michael had destroyed his flat the last time. He goes through his ledger for contractors about getting the needed repairs done and readies his list of people to call tomorrow, then finds himself at loose ends.</p><p>He cooks for himself, finding that he misses Chloe already. <em>Well isn’t this a sad little circumstance,</em> he thinks to himself wryly, <em>the Devil’s lonely after just a few hours alone. </em>He puts some arias on over the sound system and pitches the volume low to give himself some background noise, and takes his dinner out onto the balcony to eat.</p><p>“All right, <em>you bastard</em>,” the words fall from his lips without his planning to say them, and he startles a little at the unplanned soliloquy. “I’ve spoken at length with Linda, I’ve done some research and I still don’t have a bloody idea on how to get a grip on this guilt. You really need to do something about the advice Your church gives people on this sort of thing, You know? It’s probably going to cause a crowding problem in Hell at some point,” He speaks slowly, conversationally, as he eats his dinner. Somehow, knowing He might <em>actually</em> be listening takes the edge off his usual ranting.</p><p>“Uriel…” he swallows, his throat suddenly dry. “Uriel I understand. My inaction with Mum was the reason he came after me, and in order to protect them both—and Mazikeen, of course—I had to kill him. Guilt 101, do a bad thing, feel bad afterward. Check. But I’d left that behind me… or… I thought I had.”</p><p>“But then the case this past weekend, and it all come roaring back, full-force, and on top of Michael, I… I don’t know what to do.” He hates how small his voice sounds, but as it’s only him here, and his… Creator would know exactly how he was feeling anyway, he sees no point in hiding behind a façade of strength he doesn’t feel in this moment. “So if you have any suggestions, well, I might be willing to consider them.”</p><p>*</p><p>It’s <em>weird</em> being in her apartment with Dan rattling around like a marble in a jar. Things will feel utterly normal for a little while and then she’ll come across his leather jacket slung over the back of one of the kitchen chairs instead of Lucifer’s Burberry and she has a moment of disconcerting dissonance. Thankfully, he’d already been using the guest bath rather than her en suite, so they didn’t have to share facilities. Chloe remembers all too clearly the annoyances associated with those rituals.</p><p><em>Strange that with Lucifer we never get in each other’s way, even though his grooming routine is </em>way<em> more intricate than Dan’s.</em></p><p>Chloe mostly hovers near Trixie’s room, the door stays slid partly closed to help filter any noise from the living area, but open enough to make sure it’s easy to monitor her sleeping daughter. Trixie didn’t have an appetite, and with a stomach bug Chloe doesn’t try to convince her otherwise, but does make sure she stays well-hydrated when she’s not sleeping. Her fever is low, but enough that she’s sweaty and restless, and wants nothing more than to cling to her mother when she’s awake, and even for a while after she dozes off.</p><p>Dan runs interference, making supply runs as needed and taking his turn watching over their daughter once Chloe pries herself out of Trixie’s sweaty grasp. She can’t help but wonder how Lucifer would handle this situation, and she lets the resulting smile linger on her lips. Trixie’s asked for him often enough that she has no doubt that <em>he</em> would be wrapped in that same sweaty embrace. She’s trying to decide if he’d bear it stoically like he had when Trixie had clung to him and cried over Chloe’s confession about Kinley; or if he would be aware enough of the lesser severity of this particular ailment and complain loudly while making no attempt to escape, and making Trixie giggle sleepily in the process. She supposes it would depend on Trixie’s level of need. They’ve come to a pretty good understanding over the past few years—Trixie’s gained a solid insight into what he’ll tolerate, and he’s learned how to tell what she <em>needs</em> versus what she <em>wants.</em> <em>He has enough on his mind right now, it’s probably a good thing he has things to keep him busy while I’m here.</em></p><p>She misses him in a hundred, a <em>thousand</em> tiny ways that evening, and she realizes how very accustomed she’s become to having him around nearly constantly. She successfully fights down her smile at his imagined remarks when Dan does his evening workout in the sitting room, and her voice only chokes up a little when she hears his snarky commentary in her head as she’s reading Trixie her bedtime story. Finally, her daughter slips into deeper sleep and she’s able to retreat to her bedroom for the night, Dan taking up a position on the couch for the night to be close to Trixie, just in case she takes a turn for the worse.</p><p>She changes into her pajamas and picks up her phone from the nightstand. No texts from Lucifer all evening—he really <em>must</em> have kept busy. She pulls up his contact with the ridiculous photo of her playfully kissing his cheek as he grins proudly into the camera and presses the call button, eagerly pressing the headset to her ear.</p><p><em>“Hello, you’ve reached Lucifer,” </em>his schmoozy public voice fills her ear, and she deflates. Voicemail. <em>“You know what to do, preferably in the nude.”</em>  She hangs up, laughing. She so rarely gets his voicemail she’d forgotten about that outgoing message.</p><p>
  <em>I really need to see if he’ll change that.</em>
</p><p>She calls him back, hoping he’ll pick up this time, but no, voicemail again. She forces herself to sound chipper as she leaves her message. “Hey Lucifer, it’s me. I’m getting ready to head to bed, but I was hoping to talk to you a little before I went to sleep. I missed you tonight. Call me if you get this soon, okay?  I love you, good night!”</p><p>She plugs the phone into her charger and watches to see if the screen will light up with an incoming call. Despite the softness of the sheets and the warmth and weight of the duvet (Lucifer had <em>insisted</em> that if he was going to be spending time in this bed with her, she was getting some comfortable bedding), she feels chilled without him there beside her.</p><p>The screen doesn’t light up, and eventually her eyes drift closed.</p><p>*</p><p>It turns out that trying to disentangle oneself from unfounded guilt is rather like trying to defeat a hydra. Or so Lucifer considers, as he tries to think his way clear to his current issue. It certainly doesn’t help that the more he thinks about his reasons for guilt, the more anxious he becomes and the faster the devil effect seems to spread. First crawling up his right arm, then across his back and chest until it overtakes his form completely.</p><p>He’s sitting on the settee, learning forward because he’s now developed brand-new monstrous plated spikes jutting from his back that make attempting to lean back uncomfortable, when he hears the familiar sound of wind rustling through feathers from the balcony.</p><p>“Lucifer, brother?” Arael’s excited voice calls out, “Are you here?  I wanted to—oh, <em>Lucifer</em>.”</p><p>Lucifer doesn’t move, except to curl into more tightly into himself. He doesn’t ask how Arael knows it’s even him sitting there. <em>Who else would be here? Especially looking like </em>this?</p><p>He feels the couch settle under the weight of a large body and a callused palm settles lightly on his shoulder. “These are the scars you carry with you from your descent?” Lucifer cringes at the softness in his tone, and the hand tightens in an empathetic squeeze.</p><p>“Not usually quite to this extent,” he admits, his voice is low and gravelly. “I seem to be struggling with some guilt, and… it’s causing my feelings of being a monster to become… well, <em>becoming</em> a monster as a result.”</p><p>“Guilt?” Arael’s tone is puzzled, but Lucifer doesn’t lift his face, keeping it buried in his leathery palms. “What could you possibly feel enough guilt for to cause… this?”</p><p>“There’s apparently very little that I <em>don’t</em> feel guilt for,” Lucifer barks a hopeless laugh, hunching his shoulders further. “Da—God told me that I would need to work out the guilt I was feeling or my self-actualization would make my path difficult… He certainly knows how to understate a warning.”</p><p>Arael’s eyebrows contract in confusion when Lucifer refers to their father by one of his names, but doesn’t pursue it. “But… Lucifer, why do you feel guilty?”</p><p>“If I bloody knew, I wouldn’t be <em>in this mess</em>, Arael!” he growls, pulling away from the gentle hand on his shoulder. He finally lifts his face and meets his brother’s eyes. Their blue-green depths are filled with compassion and worry as they take in the ridged landscape of his face. “Every time I think I’ve managed to talk myself out of guilt for one thing, several more come popping up like daisies.”</p><p>“What happened to Michael isn’t your fault, brother,” Arael’s voice is soft, but resolute, and Lucifer winces when he calls him ‘brother’.</p><p>“Oh, how I wish that Michael were my only issue at the moment,” he murmurs quietly. “Michael. Uriel. The rebellion. <em>Everything</em> I’ve put the Detective and my friends here on Earth through. Poor Eve getting tossed out of the garden… the list is seemingly endless.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you recoil? Are you in pain, even now?”</p><p>“No, of course not,” he scoffs, but it lacks any force behind it. “You can’t truly mean to claim me – claim <em>this</em> as your brother, Arael.”</p><p>“I see no reason not to,” he replies simply, honestly, and he doesn’t look away as Lucifer lifts his glowing magma eyes to watch his expression minutely, looking for any falsehood. He finds none. “All I see is my older brother, the Lightbringer, in an immense amount of anguish. Can I help you overcome this somehow?”</p><p>“I don’t think you can, Arael, and quite frankly I’m beyond surprised that you’re still <em>here</em>.” Lucifer stands and crosses the room to the bar. “Did you need something? Can I get you a drink?”</p><p>“Hm? Oh. No, thank you,” he replies distractedly, watching the spiny plates along his brother’s back shift with his movements in morbid fascination. “I only came because some of the more difficult plants on your property have started to come ‘round under my care, and I wanted to show you… but they will easily wait.”</p><p>He pours himself a drink and turns, taking care to stand primarily in the shadowed areas, though with Arael’s Celestial eyesight he has no trouble seeing the disturbing details written in his brother’s hide.</p><p>“What?” Lucifer snaps irritably, and Arael shakes himself out of his preoccupation.</p><p>“What, what?”</p><p>“You were staring,” Lucifer prods. “I suppose I can’t blame you—I know I’m more than a bit of a freak show—but you’ll forgive me for relating that it’s really not helping.”</p><p>“Oh. Right,” Arael’s expression becomes apologetic, his forehead crinkling in concern before asking hesitantly, “Where is Chloe?”</p><p>“The Spawn is ill with some sort of apparently-common offspring-type ailment. Something to do with bugs, I think the Detective said,” he waves off the details with his glass. “She needed her mother, so I convinced Chloe to stay with her until she’s well again.”</p><p>“So, she doesn’t know about this,” Arael guesses shrewdly.</p><p>“I was hoping to resolve it before the Urchin recovers,” Lucifer confirms, and Arael’s eyebrows lift in surprise.</p><p>“Brother, you can’t keep this from her.”</p><p>“I wasn’t intending to… but I <em>was</em> hoping to present it as a problem already solved, not something <em>else</em> for her to worry over…” he trails off. “Also, the Announcement for the lifting of my banishment has been scheduled for Thursday… if I don’t resolve this by then—well—obviously I won’t be able to attend.”</p><p>“Lucifer, you <em>can’t</em> not attend—”</p><p>“Well, I can’t bloody well show up looking like the Great Beast, can I?” he rumbles, and his eyes flare brighter in his irritation.</p><p>“You need to tell Chloe,” Arael persists and Lucifer grumbles some more into his glass. “She’s <em>good</em> at getting to the root of things, brother, isn’t that what she <em>does</em>?”</p><p>The muffled grumbling stops as Lucifer considers his brother’s words, and he sighs heavily. “You may have a point,” he acknowledges reluctantly. “But her offspring truly <em>does</em> need her now. I’ll tell her tomorrow, it’s late, and she’s back to work tomorrow, I don’t want her losing sleep.”</p><p>“That sounds like an excuse, brother,” Arael allows a little of his natural dry humor to creep into his tone, “but if you say you will tell her tomorrow, I know it for truth. I… I am honored that you trust me to be here with you, to see you this way.”</p><p><em>“Honored?”</em> Lucifer barks a harsh laugh. “I don’t remember growing any perception-altering plants on that particular estate, brother, did you manage to produce some so quickly?”</p><p>“No, but I do have some starts, if you’d like me to,” they exchange smirks, and Lucifer clears his throat quickly. “I told you, when you shared your experiences with us that I hoped one day you would trust me enough to allow me to see the scars you carry. It appears to be a heavy burden, Lucifer, and I don’t believe you deserve to carry it. I hope we can find a way to lighten your load, my brother.” He stretches out an open hand and Lucifer regards it for a moment before offering his own. Arael’s broad palm clasps his brother’s furrowed forearm firmly, and a very surprised Lucifer finds himself pulled into a rough embrace. Arael’s coppery curls tickle his charred nose for a moment before he pulls away, his wide eyes earnest. “I have faith in you, and Chloe. I will bend my mind to this problem as well, though it’s further outside my realm of expertise than I’m used to. Stay in touch, brother.”</p><p>“See you soon, Arael,” Lucifer replies dazedly, as the angel exits to the balcony and disappears in a flash of muted russet feathers.</p><p>He stares out the windows for a long while before he turns and heads to his bedroom, collapsing onto the bed in a fog of mental exhaustion without even bothering to undress.</p><p>*</p><p>Chloe gets the call for her next case just before daybreak on Tuesday. She texts Lucifer the barest details and sets about getting ready for the crime scene. She checks Trixie, who still has a low-grade fever but seems to be sleeping soundly. Dan’s still passed out on the couch when she slips her boots and jacket on, secures her badge and sidearm to her belt and slips out the door.</p><p>She checks her phone as she slides into the driver’s seat and finds a missed text from Lucifer, it must have come in while she was in the shower.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Apologies, Detective, I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you today—slight self-actualization issue going on at the moment, probably best I’m not around anyone until I get a handle on it.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p><em>Slight issue?</em> Her mind blanks as she re-reads the text. <em>What does that mean?</em> She pops in her Bluetooth headset and calls him, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel as she heads for the scene.</p><p>“Good morning, Detective,” his voice is rough, as though he’s only barely awake and she wishes she were there with him in bed. “I take it you received my message. I’m sorry I didn’t call you back last night, darling, I’d left my phone in my jacket pocket.”</p><p>“It’s okay, Lucifer, I fell asleep pretty soon after I left that message anyway,” she fibs. <em>It’s not a lie… an hour or two could be considered ‘pretty soon’, depending on the context…</em> “I’m a little concerned about your current issue—what’s going on?”</p><p>“I think it’s what <em>He</em> was warning me about… the more I’m trying to get a grip on my guilt, the more guilt I’m unearthing, and… well, it’s not pretty, Detective. My… my wings—”</p><p>“What about your wings?” she has a panicky flash of finding Lucifer’s severed wings tucked away in his linen closet.</p><p>“They’re… different… and they won’t go back in.” He whispers hesitantly. He’s trying hard to hide his fear, but she can hear it nonetheless.</p><p>“Different how, Lucifer?” She demands anxiously, “Do you need me there?”</p><p><em>“No</em>, Detective,” he sounds more fearful now, but his voice is firm. “I’d rather not see anyone just now, its… I’m… I need to work on the guilt, and I can’t do that if I’m panicking about how others will react to how I look at the moment.”</p><p>“What aren’t you telling me?” she hisses in frustration, considering heading for Lux right now, crime scene be damned.</p><p>“Without going into detail… can we just say that my wings aren’t the only things that won’t go away?” He’s practically pleading with her not to make him say it, because that will make it <em>real</em>.</p><p>“Your face?” her breath catches in her throat as she waits for his answer, and the silence says volumes.</p><p>“It’s a rather extreme case, Detective, I’ve… never experienced anything like it.” He sounds as though he’s barely holding himself together, and her heart clenches in her chest.</p><p>“I’m coming over,” she flicks a glance over her shoulder in preparation to change lanes to head back to Lux.</p><p>“Detective, <em>please</em> do not,” he pleads, and she <em>hates</em> hearing that desperation in his voice. “I don’t want to frighten you, and I, Dr. Linda, and Arael are working to think of ways to address my guilt to help combat this… manifestation. Please, Detective… if you can think of any ways to address releasing guilt throughout the day send them along, but… I’m trying to—to <em>not</em> fall apart and I’m terribly afraid that if you see me like this…”</p><p>“I’m not running away, Lucifer,” she reminds him vehemently, “I can’t just let you—”</p><p><em>“I</em> might run, Detective,” he admits quietly, and her voice dies in her throat. “I would much rather run away than reveal myself to you in… this condition. It would be far less painful, for both of us.”</p><p>“This isn’t doing much to settle my concerns, Lucifer,” she points out blandly.</p><p>“Nor mine, Detective,” he assures her wryly. “Will you promise not to come?”</p><p>“I won’t promise that,” she shakes her head in frustration, watching carefully for the street she’s supposed to be turning on, “you keep me apprised of what’s going on throughout the day, but if you’re no better by tonight, I’m coming over, and you <em>will not run</em>.”</p><p>“Is your Urchin not still ill?” he asks, trying hard not to sound hopeful. “Doesn’t she still need you nearby?”</p><p>“Trixie has Dan, and she was no worse this morning when I left. I’ll be checking in with them today too, but don’t think you’re going to distract me from this.”</p><p>“I know you’re far too stubborn for that, but it was worth an effort,” he sighs in resignation. “Very well, Detective, though setting a deadline of this evening does nothing for trying to take the stress out of this entire de-guilting process. The Thursday deadline for <em>His</em> announcement was stressful enough.”</p><p>“It is really that bad?” she asks quietly, though from his reaction and evasiveness, she’s afraid she already knows the answer.</p><p>“I’m monstrous, Detective,” he murmurs, and his voice wavers on the edge of a dry sob before he clears his throat and injects a veneer of energy into it. “I’m trying not to dwell on it and focus instead on the solution, Dr. Linda says that’s important. I just… need some time. So… you’ll tend to your murder and do try to be safe, won’t you?”</p><p>“I always do,” she reassures him, and she hears his quietly relieved sigh. “You’ll keep me informed of any change?”</p><p>“I will,” he vows, “I’ll only bother you if something <em>does</em> change, though. That way I won’t be distracting you from the case.”</p><p>“You <em>like</em> distracting me from cases,” she tries a teasing tone, and he huffs a tiny laugh.</p><p>“I do,” he admits, “very much. But neither of us can afford to be distracted today, I’m afraid. So I’ll just have to distract you <em>more</em> on our next case.”</p><p>“I’ll hold you to that,” she tries not to say <em>too</em> desperately. “We’ll figure this out, Lucifer.”</p><p>“I hope so. I love you, Chloe,” he murmurs, and the call disconnects before she can answer him. She tries to swallow her heart, which had taken residence in her throat sometime during the call, and tries <em>not</em> to consider how… final… those last words had sounded. She pulls up to the crime scene just as the sun breaks over the horizon. She gets out of the cruiser to meet the uniformed officers already coming to meet her and sends him a quick text, just to get the final word.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>I love you too. And next time don’t hang up before I can tell you so!</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>She doesn’t expect a response, so she pockets her phone to greet the unis and start gathering her case details, already missing having her partner at her side.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0043"><h2>43. Puss in Boots Meets Hellboy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Trixie wakes with a dry, nasty taste in her mouth, her skin feels as sticky as Lucifer has ever accused her of being, and with a desperate urge to snuggle with either her Mom or Lucifer. Preferably both, because it’s so much fun to watch her mom’s fondly exasperated expression at Lucifer’s fake complaints of being wedged between the two of them.</p><p>She creeps from her room and up the stairs when a quick glance over the top of the couch tells her that it’s her dad snoring there. Her mom’s room is empty, but the bed’s not made, so Trixie knows she must have gotten a call for a case, and sighs in disappointment. She crawls under the covers and snuggles in, but it’s not the same. Her tummy still hurts and her head aches pretty bad, too. She’d really been hoping that Lucifer would come, she’d asked her mom for him several times, but he’d been busy. He hadn’t even answered her good night text last night, and he <em>always </em>answers that. He’d never stayed away when she’d needed him before, except for those months when her mom was with Pierce, and then Rome… but she won’t think of that.</p><p>She curls around herself miserably and falls back into a restless sleep, only to be awakened a little later by an anxious voice calling of her name from downstairs.</p><p>
  <em>“Trix!?”                                                                                     </em>
</p><p>“Up here, Dad,” she calls weakly, and he appears in the doorway so fast she almost giggles.</p><p>“Hey, Monkey, how are you feeling? How come you’re up here, did you sleep with your mom last night?”</p><p>“My head and my belly hurt, and I’m <em>hot</em>,” she whines pitifully, and Dan comes to the bedside to check her temperature. “I wanted Mom, but she’s already gone.” She wants Lucifer too, but she isn’t sure how well her Dad would take that admission. He seems like he’s been doing better, and he’s been nice to Lucifer lately, but she’s not sure she trusts him all the way with her friend yet.</p><p>“Sorry kiddo,” he checks his phone and nods, tucking it back into his pocket, “looks like she caught an early case, so it’s just you and me for today. Let’s get you another dose of Tylenol, huh? Do you want some breakfast?”</p><p>The thought of food makes her stomach churn uncomfortably and she grimaces, shaking her head.</p><p>“Okay, we’ll get some fluids into you though, you’ve gotta drink something with that fever or you’ll dry up like Mrs. Baczinski.” She giggles a little at that, but it turns into a groan as her stomach protests again. “C’mon, Trix, let’s get you back in your bed with a dose of medicine into you so you feel better.”</p><p>The girl allows herself to be led back downstairs. While her dad gets her medicine and drink, she stops in the bathroom to wash her face and feels a bit better with the sweat washed from her skin. <em>I guess I can kind of see Lucifer’s point… being sticky can feel kinda gross.</em></p><p>She crawls back into her bed and her dad appears with the cup of liquid medicine and a small cup of juice to drink. She pushes her heavy blanket off to the side, but pulls her sheet over her to curl around herself once she’s emptied both, and settles down to sleep again.  </p><p>*</p><p>Dan watches her for a while before retreating back to the kitchen area with his laptop, readying himself for yet another wearying round of job hunting.</p><p>Several dozen ad listings and far too few hopeful application submissions later, he stands and stretches. He checks the clock and finds that more time has passed than he thought, and it’s time for Trixie’s next round of meds. He measures the dose and another glass of juice and taps lightly on the door before sliding it open.</p><p>“Hey Mon—” the bed is empty. He looks around. Pajamas on the floor, shoes and phone gone, window open. He sighs in frustration. “Trixie?” He calls without any real hope. He doesn’t even need to wonder where she’s gone. He pulls up his Uber app. <em>Yep. She’s on her way back to Lux.</em> At least he knows he didn’t miss her by much, the ride only left a few minutes ago. He already knows Lucifer’s not working the case with Chloe today, something about needing to be at Lux instead, and he thanks his lucky stars that at least <em>this</em> time there’s probably not going to be any danger there for Trixie. <em>Michael’s gone, and I haven’t set anyone on him lately… should be all clear for now. </em>He texts Lucifer and gets dressed, preparing to go after his daughter and extract a <em>real</em> promise from her this time to stop running off.  And change his Uber password… again.</p><p>*</p><p>The elevator chimes and the doors release Trixie onto Lucifer’s penthouse level. She’d woken up feeling better, but with an urgent uneasiness about Lucifer’s silence. She’d texted him before she’d fallen asleep this morning, and he hadn’t responded by the time she woke up. She hadn’t received a response to her good night text last night, either.</p><p><em>He </em>always<em> responds.</em></p><p>The penthouse is quiet, and she looks around for a clue as to where he might be. He’s not at the bar, in the kitchen, or out on the balcony. She walks along the balcony, enjoying the fresh breeze against her flushed face, and something catches her eye through the glass wall. There’s something piled on top of Lucifer’s gold sheets. <em>Is he packing for a trip?</em> She pokes her head in the open balcony door and her breath catches in surprise. It’s not a pile of clothes… it looks like <em>wings</em>, but… <em>Does Lucifer have a pet dragon??</em></p><p>“Lucifer?” she whispers, worried now. “Are you here?”</p><p>“Hmmph,” the grumbling sound comes from the mound of red, leathery wings currently residing in the bed, and she recognizes the grumpy noise that Lucifer would make on the few occasions she’s crawled into the bed with him and her mom after a nightmare. Relaxing, she moves further into the room and approaches the form on the bed and studies him carefully.</p><p>The wings don’t look <em>anything</em> like the fluffy white feathered wings she’s seen before. These really do look like something more like she’s seen in fairy tale illustrations on dragons—complete with enormous glossy black horns capping the gracefully arching folds at the top. As she moves closer, one of the wings shifts and she can see him underneath, and her eyes widen as she realizes what she’s looking at.</p><p><em>Is that why you won’t show me your face? Because you don’t trust me?”</em> she’d shouted at him after hearing his story, appalled.<em> “You’re afraid I’ll… run away, or try to hurt you like Mommy and Daddy did?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Beatrice, I’ve told you why I refuse to show you that face—I’m trying to preserve your sanity.  Though the fact that you keep asking to see it makes me wonder if that’s a futile effort… It’s intended as a punishment, Spawn, not only for me but for the guilty. As you are neither of those things, there is nothing that could convince me to show you that horror.”</em>
</p><p><em>This</em> is what he hadn’t wanted her to see—what had happened to him when his own brother threw him into Hell and he’d caught fire and burned. She doesn’t feel like she’s going crazy, or being punished, except that he looks like he hurts all over. Her eyes burn with tears of compassion, but she fights against letting them fall, because she knows it upsets Lucifer when she cries. She studies his sleeping face carefully, taking in the ridges and whorls of scarred, waxy skin that stretches thinly across the familiar bone structure. His wing shifts again, restlessly, and draws her attention to the bony spiked plates running down his spine. Even the skin on the arm and hand she can see resting limply on his pillow is red and charred-looking. She wants to hug him, but she’s afraid he might be in pain. His expression looked pained, even as he sleeps.</p><p>“Lucifer?” she whispers again, leaning in and speaking a little louder as he groans once more. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“M’fine,” he mumbles grumpily, burying his ravaged face into his pillow in a way that’s so <em>Lucifer</em> that Trixie can’t stifle her giggle. His eyes pop open at the sound, and neither of them move. “Beatrice?”</p><p>His voice now is soft and terrified, but Trixie, her face less than a foot away from his, is mesmerized by the glowing orange and black of his eyes. When she doesn’t say anything, he tries again, even more softly and with a note of pleading, “Beatrice? Are you… are you quite all right?”</p><p>“Your eyes are really cool,” she replies quietly, “and I asked you first.”</p><p>“Wh-what?”</p><p>“I asked <em>you</em> if you were okay first, and you didn’t answer me yet,” she explains patiently. She’s used to adults being a bit slow when they first wake up. Mom says it’s because they haven’t had their coffee yet. “Were you punishing someone?  Is that why you didn’t text me back last night?”</p><p>“No, I was… I was working on something and I didn’t have my phone with me and—Beatrice, <em>what are you doing here?”</em> His glowing eyes flicker down to his reddened arm and draconic wing and his lids squeeze shut, an anguished look pressing into the melted wax features of his face. “Your parents are going to <em>kill me</em> if you go mad because you saw me this way.”</p><p>“Why would I be mad at you? Because you didn’t text me back?”</p><p>“Not that kind of…” His eyes pop open again, and his tone, while still carefully soft, takes on an edge of exasperation. <em>“Do your parents know you’re here?”</em></p><p>“No…” a look of chagrin crosses her face, and his burning eyes narrow.</p><p>“Urchin…” he begins, and she cuts in before he can insist on calling her mother.</p><p>“You still haven’t answered me, and that means you’re not all right,” she observes. “If you weren’t punishing someone, then why are you wearing that face?”</p><p>“I…”</p><p>“Mom said something happened with your brother,” Trixie elaborates, fishing for information. “were you punishing him?”</p><p>“No, Beatrice,” he admits quietly, “Michael is dead and beyond my reach. He can’t hurt any of us anymore.”</p><p>“What happened?” Trixie’s eyes widen and she looks him over for injuries, but all she can see are his wings, his back, and his legs, which are still clad in his trousers from yesterday. “Did he hurt you again? Did you… did you get burned again?”</p><p>“I haven’t been burned again, this is… something else. He… he was going to try to hurt me,” Lucifer swallows, his eyes closing briefly before meeting hers again anxiously. “But I distracted him and someone stabbed him.”</p><p>“Was it Maze?” the girl pulls herself up to sit beside him, cross-legged on the bed.</p><p>“No,” Lucifer chuffs a half-laugh, “and I’m sure she’ll be disappointed that it wasn’t, but he <em>is</em> gone, so you needn’t worry about him.”</p><p>“You don’t need to worry about him either,” she points out. “Oh. It’s <em>you</em>.”</p><p>“What is me?”</p><p>“You’re punishing yourself,” her forehead creases and her head tilts in confusion. “Why? And are you sure you’re okay?  You haven’t moved at all, except for your wing while you were still asleep.”</p><p>Lucifer hasn’t moved so much as a muscle since he opened his eyes and found the Detective’s offspring less than a foot from his monstrous face. He’s terrified to even twitch with her so near, but he can’t seem to stop speaking with her.</p><p>“I’m not hurt, Beatrice, I… am terrified I’m going to frighten you.”</p><p>“Lucifer,” she sighs, rolling her eyes and he almost smiles, she reminds him so strongly of her mother, “do I <em>look</em> scared?”</p><p>“Well…” he hesitates and really takes in her expression with wondering eyes. “no, I suppose you don’t. You look a bit exasperated, really.”</p><p>“What’s that mean?” her eyes narrow suspiciously, and this time he does chuckle a little.</p><p>“It means annoyed, Monkey,” comes a voice from the doorway to the bedroom. “You know, kind of like I was, when I found out my own daughter snuck out on me <em>yet again.</em>”</p><p>*</p><p>Dan had arrived just as Trixie was approaching the sleeping devil, thanks to a little judicious speeding and a couple of shortcuts that the Uber driver didn’t take advantage of.</p><p>He’d seen the enormous bat-like wings and the burned skin and his insides had turned to molten lead. He remembers the burning eyes, the charred face, the demonic tones resonating through the voice and ricocheting through his head for weeks—He’d been about to strangle out a cry to <em>Get away from it!</em> when he’d noticed Trixie’s expression of compassion… not for a <em>thing, </em>but for her <em>friend</em>. <em>She really is the </em>best<em> of me. Better in every way.</em></p><p>Dan had felt an overwhelming tsunami of <em>shame</em> crash over him, and he hadn’t been able to utter a sound as he watched his daughter gently wake the devil, compliment his pretty eyes, and proceed to ask if he was okay. He can’t <em>see </em>Lucifer’s face, but as he listens to their conversation he can hear the fear in his voice… this <em>infinitely powerful being</em> was afraid of scaring a 10-year-old girl that he obviously cares a great deal for.</p><p><em>He doesn’t want to be a monster</em>, Dan realizes, and maybe it’s something he’s already known, but now he recognizes it, and with that acknowledgement the last of his residual fear drains from him like a water from a ruptured balloon.</p><p>“What’s that mean?” his daughter asks the devil before her, and he hears the quiet laugh emanating from the grotesque form in the bed.</p><p>“It means annoyed, Monkey,” he steps into the doorway. “You know, kind of like I was, when I found out my own daughter snuck out on me <em>yet again.</em>”</p><p>Trixie’s eyes dart up to notice him and her mouth opens in an “O” of surprise. Lucifer, still carefully frozen, tries to make himself smaller without actually moving.</p><p>“We’re going to talk about this, Trixie, this <em>has </em>to stop,” Dan admonishes, “but I’ll admit we might have a bigger issue to deal with here. First of all— Trixie, take your medicine, you’re late.” He crosses the room and hands her the tiny cup. “I don’t have any juice to wash it down, so you’re just going to have to suffer with the aftertaste for now.” She grimaces, but takes the tiny cup and doesn’t argue as she drinks the medicine. He turns to Lucifer, who cringes against his mattress. “Secondly… dude, what the <em>hell </em>happened to you?”</p><p>“Oh, <em>very</em> funny Daniel,” his voice is deeper than it normally is, but the tonality, annoyance, and accent remain the same under the rasp of it. “Thinking of trying stand-up again, are we?”</p><p>“Seriously, what happened?”</p><p>“I… would very much like to have this conversation <em>not</em> prone on my bed. If I move to sit up, will either of you experience a mental break and run screaming?”</p><p>Trixie narrows her eyes at her father, who shakes his head. “I think we’re good Lucifer, do you need help getting up?”</p><p>“No, Urchin, I was merely sleeping,” he tucks his draconic wings close to his back and slowly picks himself up, standing hunched at the foot of his bed with the horns capping his folded wings rising behind him. Dan looks up at him, then down to his bare (red, talon-tipped) feet, then back up again.</p><p>“No tail?” And maybe his voice isn’t as steady as he’d like it to be, but it’s also not fearful or panicky, so Dan’s willing to take the win.</p><p>Lucifer’s hand raises to cover his face and he groans multi-tonally. “Can we please go into the sitting room? I’m going to need a drink for this conversation.” No one moves, and Lucifer gestures for them to precede him out of the room. Dan turns first and heads down the stairs, while Trixie grabs Lucifer’s crimson, roughened hand and tugs him with her.</p><p>“I thought you were ill, Urchin?” he rumbles quietly as he allows himself to be pulled along by this 65-pound scrap of a human being.</p><p>“I feel a little better now, and I missed you,” she says artlessly, and he has no response to that. “I knew when you didn’t come or text me that <em>something</em> was wrong… and I wasn’t sure Dad would let me come if I asked, so… I didn’t ask.”</p><p>“You do realize that your parents restrict your travel for your own safety, yes?” Lucifer gently points out. “You should be in bed resting if you’re not well.”</p><p>“If you sit down, I can rest with you. You’re warm, and you kind of seem like you’re not feeling very good either.”</p><p>“Yes, well, mine is more of a psychological issue, Spawn.” Lucifer crosses to the bar and glances at Daniel, who shakes his head at the silent question. He gathers a decanter and two tumblers, just in case, and settles himself on the couch. Dan plants himself in the chair nearest him, and Trixie, of course, climbs up and curls into his side. “Child, that cannot be comfortable. <em>You</em> cannot be comfortable this close to me, especially now that you see what I am?”</p><p><em>“This</em> isn’t what you are, Lucifer,” she lectures, wrapping her fragile arm across the scabrous skin of his waist, “it might be what you were… or maybe what you <em>thought</em> you were. But it isn’t <em>you</em>.”</p><p>“Trix is right,” Dan agrees slowly, and Lucifer looks up from his pint-size human fanny-pack in surprise. “I mean, I’m new to this whole… celestial scene, but even <em>I</em> know you’re no monster.”</p><p>“Well, Daniel,” his voice reflects surprise and no little amount of suspicion, “we <em>have </em>changed our tune, haven’t we?”</p><p>“I was in a bad place for a long time, man,” Dan confesses quietly, “but I’m better now. And <em>so are you</em>. Like Linda told me, once we are better, we can <em>do </em>better. So are you gonna tell us what happened?”</p><p>“I’ve simply come to an overdue realization that… if my <em>creator</em> truly hasn’t been manipulating me all these millennia, then every bad thing that’s happened—it’s all <em>my fault</em>.” He sighs. “And apparently, when one is a fallen angel that feels like a monster, that is precisely what one becomes.”</p><p>“I’m pretty sure that’s some faulty reasoning, buddy,” Dan says after a moment. “I mean, <em>everything</em> is a pretty broad umbrella. Believe me, I <em>know</em> how tempting it is to lay blame at someone else’s feet.” He looks meaningfully at Lucifer, who nods understandingly. The spine plates make it difficult to move his neck, so his leathery wings bob to accentuate the motion, but Dan manages not to pay too much attention to that detail. “But just because something isn’t <em>God’s</em> fault, doesn’t mean it’s automatically yours. Do you have some specific examples?”</p><p><em>“He</em> had indicated that my guilt over Michael’s death might be the incendiary event for this particular… issue.”</p><p>“But,” Trixie pipes up after a moment of consideration, “if your brother died because he was attacking you… if coming after you was somehow <em>your</em> fault… does that mean that bully that was being mean to me at school when we met was <em>my</em> fault?”</p><p>“What?” Lucifer gapes at her, “Of course not, Urchin, why on Earth would you think so?”</p><p>“Well, your brother was really mean to you, for <em>no</em> reason other than he wanted to be. He pretended to be you, and did bad things. He was a <em>bully</em>.” The girl explains as she leans against him, comfortably tucking herself into the warmth and shelter of his wing.</p><p>“I suppose he was, but there’s more to it than simply that,” Lucifer tries to explain. “He came after me because I decided to leave Hell, and my fath—God was considering letting me back into Heaven. If I hadn’t left Hell in the first place, then <em>both</em> my brothers would still be alive.”</p><p>“And you’d be <em>in Hell,</em> and miserable,” Dan points out blandly.</p><p>“There are those who would say Hell is precisely where the Devil belongs, Daniel,” Lucifer argues quietly, his eyes fixed on the talons tipping his toes.</p><p>“You’re not “the devil” that people try to paint that picture of, Lucifer,” Dan says, unconsciously echoing both Linda <em>and </em>Chloe. “You’re <em>you</em>. I know you claim the title, but even <em>you</em> have to acknowledge the difference between your definition of the devil and humanity’s warped view. The Devil that the church tries to push, of a malevolent force that’s out to collect souls and tempt them into damnation and torture?  That’s as far from you as Trixie is from… from Misty Canyons!”</p><p>“Miss Canyons is a lovely human being,” Lucifer can’t help but tease. “She gave me a quite good bit of advice once upon a time. And yet, you call your offspring ‘Trixie’…”</p><p>“Seriously?” Dan squawks, “I <em>knew</em> that question stemmed from you! Do you know how awkward that was to address? Never mind. Of course you knew.”</p><p>“To be fair, I told her to ask her mother. I hadn’t even <em>met</em> you at the time she asked… though once I did, being able to annoy you by proxy was already a small feather in my cap for the day.”</p><p>Trixie glances back and forth curiously between the two, not remembering the specifics of their conversation that day so many years ago. Dan clears his throat and moves the subject along. “All right, so we’ve got a definite “not guilty” verdict for the Michael issue, what else have you got?”</p><p>“I had another brother that tried to…” his eyes dart down to the child nestled against him and he reframes his words quickly, “hurt some people that I care about, including Mazikeen and my Mum—our Mum. I had to stop him.”</p><p>“This is the brother that gave Kinley the, uh, vial?” Dan clarifies, and Lucifer nods.</p><p>“Yeah, sorry bro, that’s gonna have to be another ‘not guilty’ verdict. Sounds like self-defense, and defending others. Chloe told us some of that while we were waiting for you to um, make it back from your first run-in with Michael. If you’re the target, you can’t be responsible for pulling the trigger.” He flinches as he realizes his choice of words, but Lucifer doesn’t react, merely sits there switching his stare between the two obstinate humans.</p><p>“I’ve already been over this with the Detective, in a slightly different context,” he sighs, staring forlornly at his hands again. “All of you seem to have a consistent opinion, and I <em>do</em> see the sense in it… but then, <em>why</em> am I still stuck like this?”</p><p>Trixie suddenly curls into herself with a low whimper, and both men divert their attention to her. “Need the bathroom, Trix?”</p><p>The girl nods, and Dan helps her to her feet and ushers her quickly to Lucifer’s enormous bathroom, where the devil listens to the miserable sounds of retching from where he sits. He gets up to fetch two bottles of water for his guests, and refills his tumbler from his decanter. He fetches a blanket for the offspring. Hopefully he’ll be able to talk Daniel into taking her home, but he’s familiar enough with her stubbornness and his hopes aren’t high.</p><p>When they come back into the room, the child looks paler than she had when she arrived. “Not feeling quite as well now, hm, Urchin? Ready to let your father take you home now?”</p><p>“No, I wanna stay with you,” she whines, diving away from her father’s support and back into the warmth of Lucifer’s craggy torso. He gazes imploringly at Daniel, who has the audacity to laugh at him before turning it into a very unconvincing cough.</p><p>“Sorry man,” he can’t wipe the grin from his face. “I never thought I’d see the day <em>you</em> try puppy eyes on me… I gotta tell ya, with that particular look, it looks <em>really damn weird. </em>Like… Puss in Boots meets Hellboy.”</p><p>“I have no idea what any of that means, Daniel,” Lucifer replies primly, which only makes Dan laugh harder. Trixie groans against Lucifer’s side, and he pulls the blanket over her. “I brought you some water, Urchin, if you think it will help at all? I wasn’t certain what sick humans need, but water seemed an innocuous enough offering…”</p><p>“We’ll give her a minute for a stomach to settle, but yeah, water’s typically a good start.” Once she’s managed to keep a few sips down, she nestles further into his side and falls asleep.</p><p>“She’s always been clingy when she’s sick,” Dan explains quietly once she starts to snore. “Usually she wants Chloe, but she would never want to snuggle with me.  Apparently whatever it is that Chloe has, you’ve got it, too.”</p><p>“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” Lucifer snorts lightly. “Apparently we have quite a lot in common.”</p><p>“Does she know about… this?” Dan gestures to the whole of him, just to make sure Lucifer won’t purposely misunderstand his question.</p><p>“She knows about the overall situation, just not the details,” Lucifer grimaces, and Dan notices that even his teeth are yellowed and cracked, as though they too have been through fire and brimstone. <em>Apparently they have</em>. “This has never happened to me, Daniel, not… not to this extent, not since I Fell. And the wings are an entirely new and unwelcome development. I… didn’t know how to describe it, and I didn’t want to worry her while she’s working her case. I told her that I am monstrous, but I don’t know how well she believed me. I… don’t want to push her away, but I don’t want her to see me this way. I don’t wish to scare her again.”</p><p>“Well, I can understand that,” Dan looks him over again, slowly this time as Lucifer watches him apprehensively. “It’s unsettling, but, after the initial shock—and now that I don’t have to deal with sudden onrushing train of EVERYTHING IS REAL—it’s not the end of the world, man.”</p><p>“Isn’t it?” his tone is hollow and exhausted. “If I can’t… if I can’t figure out how to make this <em>stop</em>, the only place I’ll be fit for is Hell. I won’t be able to stay here looking like this.”</p><p>“We’ll figure something out,” he says confidently, “Linda’s a genius, and your brother has a pretty good batting average for some weird situations too, from what I hear. What <em>did</em> Linda say when you talked to her about this?”</p><p>“It wasn’t this bad when we spoke… it started as merely a small spot on the back of my hand. She’s scheduled me for a session tomorrow to go over any ideas we may have.” His chest heaves like a bellows as he pulls in and releases a sigh. “She said that I need to stop judging myself more harshly than I do others.”</p><p>“That makes sense,” Dan nods, looking down in thought. “I’ve heard you go on about how much you hate it when the devil gets blamed for the bad things people do—I get it, we’re each responsible for our <em>own</em> choices. But… it also seems like you kind of blame <em>yourself</em> for those same choices people make. You tried to take the blame for what I did to Chloe so Trixie wouldn’t be mad at me—Which was totally unnecessary, and I never thanked you for by the way, but what I did wasn’t your fault, Lucifer. Trixie knew it was all me. Just like she knew Chloe’s choices were on <em>her</em>, no matter how much you tried to convince her otherwise. If you’re responsible for your choices, then <em>we</em> have to be responsible for our own, not you. You can’t save us from ourselves, buddy. And for what it’s worth, I forgive you for <em>anything</em> you think you’ve done to me. You’ve got to let it go.”</p><p>“Daniel, I <em>want to</em>…” he trails off as he notices Dan’s eyes widening as he looks at his daughter nestled against the devil. His own glowing eyes follow the gaze. “What?”</p><p>“Your hand, Lucifer, look.”</p><p>He glances down to where his left hand is carefully resting on the girl’s shoulder, and finds smooth pale skin, manicured nails, and long pianist’s fingers where a taloned claw had been previously.</p><p>*</p><p>By lunchtime Chloe is more than ready for a break. She’s got a strong suspect, she just needs to wait for the lab to run the evidence to support it so she can bring him in for an interview. She finds herself conveniently close to Lux, and decides now is as good a time as any to stop in and check on her wayward partner. She hadn’t promised <em>not</em> to come before evening, after all.</p><p>“Your hand, Lucifer, look.” Dan is sitting in one of the caramel-colored leather chairs in the sitting room, and on the couch… She steps off the lift and her breath leaves her in a weak rush. Sitting on the couch across from her ex-husband is the real-life version of those horrible drawings she’d seen in the dusty old tomes at the Vatican library. Red, mottled skin, giant bat’s wings capped with ebony claw tips draped over the back of the couch and an impressive row of armor-plated spikes running the length of his spine. Every inch of skin is burned down to the underlying tissue and what’s left looks as though it’s been coated in melted wax that’s been swirled and left to harden in unpredictable patterns.</p><p><em>“I’m monstrous, Detective”</em> he’d said, and she’d heard the pain in his voice then.</p><p><em>A self-actualization issue, hm?</em> She thinks to herself, trying to avoid outright panic, followed immediately by, <em>I can’t let him see me freak out, he’ll </em>run. Just then, Dan spots her and his eyes widen. Lucifer is looking down at something at his side, his head hidden behind one of the enormous, red dragon-like wings sprouting from his plated back, and Dan shakes his head slightly at her, eyes flickering to Lucifer and back to her. She schools her expression and the anxiety bleeds from his immediately as he nods in encouragement. Her face must have been a study in terror.</p><p>“And just what are you boys up to in the middle of the day, while the rest of us are doing all the work?” she teases lightly, and it doesn’t take a Lucifer expert to spot the way his wings nearly close around him as he tries to make himself small and less threatening. Her heart clenches in her chest as she crosses the room, and she cradles her divine internal light, holding it tightly.</p><p>“Taking care of Trixie, of course,” Dan replies when Lucifer doesn’t say anything at all. She pulls in a slow deep breath and approaches the couch, coming up behind him and peering over his wing and shoulder, finding her daughter nestled sound asleep against her transformed partner. She leans against the back of the couch at his shoulder and feels him try not to flinch away from her. He nearly succeeds, but his wings give him away.</p><p>“I can see that,” she keeps her voice casual as she leans forward, brushing her lips gently against his scarred temple. “I’m guessing the trip here was her idea?”</p><p>“Definitely her unilateral idea,” Dan says dryly, and her laugh sounds nearly natural.</p><p>“Snuck away from you again, didn’t she?”</p><p>“I almost beat her here,” Dan defends himself.</p><p>“Did he?” she turns to Lucifer, who won’t meet her eye.</p><p>“He couldn’t have been too far behind her, Detective, he announced himself mere minutes after she woke me.” It’s the same roughened voice from this morning, the one she’d attributed to being just awakened.</p><p>“Are you okay?” She feels him heave a sigh, but he keeps his face turned away from her.</p><p>“Have I mentioned lately how much I hate that bloody question?”</p><p>“Not today, that I’m aware of.” She rests her chin against the top of his head and leans her forearms gently on his shoulders so her wrists cross over his chest.</p><p>“Consider it mentioned.” He relaxes a little bit, but doesn’t lean back into her, probably very aware of the spiny plates protruding from his back.</p><p>“That’s not an answer. How long has it been this way?”</p><p>“The wings appeared around 3 this morning, I can’t get them to go back in. Everything else was here when Arael came by last night.”</p><p>“But look,” Dan gestures excitedly to his left hand, which she can now see is normal-looking, and resting on Trixie’s shoulder. “We’ve got progress, that wasn’t like that when we got here.”</p><p>“So we’re working on the guilt problem, then?”</p><p>“Trying to,” he grumbles, “Daniel has been surprisingly insightful.”</p><p>“Oh yeah?” she murmurs encouragingly. “What have you guys come up with so far?”</p><p>Trixie chooses that moment to pop up with another groan, and Dan’s immediately at her side, ushering her back to the bathroom, where more miserable retching sounds emanate, interspersed with splashes and murmurs. Lucifer watches her go anxiously, and Chloe stands and rounds the couch to sit beside him.</p><p>“Will the bugs be purged soon, Detective?” he asks curiously. “I was unaware that insects were such a danger to humans in this particular manner—they’re even a food staple in many countries, you know, and—”</p><p>“Lucifer,” she stems the nervous flow of chatter and reaches out to take his right hand, the one that’s burned and tipped in talons. “She’ll be fine, it’s just a stomach flu, no actual insects were involved in this situation.”</p><p>“Oh,” he breathes.</p><p>“What’s really causing this?” she asks quietly, and holds his hand tight as he shudders beside her.</p><p>“I know why I hate myself, Detective. <em>Everything</em> I touch, I ruin. From...” he tapers off, gesturing vaguely upward before allowing his voice to get a bit louder, “rebellion against Dad to now. Look at what I put you through. I <em>hate</em>... that I am poison for anyone who dares to care about me. And especially you. None of you should have to be subjected to… to <em>this.”</em></p><p>“Lucifer... this isn't about me, or Trixie, or Dan. We’re okay. I haven't crumbled into a million pieces. We still love you. I'm still here. Even <em>Dan </em>is still here. And I'm fine.” She keeps her voice soothing, stroking the ridged back of his hand as she threads her fingers through his thicker ones. “This isn't about me. This is about you. I’m not gonna let you use me as an excuse to avoid dealing with what is behind all of this. You’re feeling guilty about Michael?  About Uriel? About what else, everything you’ve tried to convince me was your fault that’s happened to me? Lucifer… you always talk about how much you hate being blamed for humanity's sins. I think I know why you hate it so much, because deep down, you blame yourself just as much... if not more! You have to stop taking responsibility for things you can't control. <em>We </em>certainly don’t blame you for them. I think... you need to forgive yourself.”</p><p>“Detective, I <em>can't,” </em>his voice is laden with so much despair, she nearly sobs her response,</p><p><em>“Why?”</em> she pulls the back of his hand to her chest and leans in toward him.</p><p>“I…I don't know how to. I don't even know where to <em>begin</em>. But...” his glowing eyes flicker to meet hers for the first time, and they give way to his familiar brown depths as realization dawns within them.</p><p>“But <em>what?”</em> she leans in and presses her forehead to his, waiting anxiously for his answer.</p><p>“I want to.” It comes so softly she almost can’t hear it over the thundering of her heart, and she surges forward in relief, pressing an eager kiss to his dry, cracked lips. His eyes fly open and she can see the surprise in them at her action as a startled noise catches in his throat. She releases his hand and brings both her palms up to run across his ridged and cragged cheeks, feeling them smooth under her hands as his normal appearance reasserts itself, complete with artful stubble. She pulls away in time to see his wings start to shrink back into the ether from which they spring.</p><p>“Lucifer…” she laughs joyfully, “I think you’ve made a start!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0044"><h2>44. How Would I Ever Find Someone to Replace You?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He raises his trembling hands disbelievingly, flipping them over to take in his normal skin. He looks over his shoulders to find the wings gone, presses his palms to his face and closes his eyes in relief.</p><p>“We did it, Detective!” he laughs, and it’s only slightly hysterical with relief as he sags against the back of the couch bonelessly, and she leans into him, tucking herself under his right arm comfortably. “Bloody <em>hell</em>, we did it!”</p><p><em>“You</em> did it,” she corrects gently, and his lips press into her hair.</p><p>“Team effort, then,” he murmurs. “Now I just need to work out how to keep it from happening <em>again</em>.”</p><p>“Something to talk with Linda about?”</p><p>“Lucifer!” Trixie’s somewhat subdued excitement rings across the room, “You changed back!”</p><p>“With your help, Urchin,” Lucifer confirms. “I’m certain I’d still be stuck if not for the three of you, and Doctor Linda, of course.”</p><p>“Does that mean you don’t feel bad anymore?” Trixie asks innocently, leaning heavily against her father’s side.</p><p>“I… think it means I’ve got some work to do, but I’ve perhaps taken the first steps toward that goal, Spawn.”</p><p>Trixie nods quietly, and Dan squeezes her in a one-armed hug.</p><p>“I think I need to get this Monkey home to bed… <em>again</em>,” he looks down at her admonishingly, and she has the grace to look contrite. “And I think we’ll have a conversation in the car about leaving without telling anyone, and the repercussions of those actions.”</p><p>The girl sighs, but knows better than to look to the other two adults for saving.</p><p>“I appreciate your coming to check on me, Beatrice,” Lucifer says gently, injecting as much sincerity in his tone as he can. “But do listen to your father on this—your safety is important to all of us, and the world can be a dangerous place for a child traveling alone.”</p><p>Chloe stands and crosses the room to speak quietly to Dan as Trixie crosses to hug Lucifer goodbye. She throws her arms around his neck and clings to him. His arms come up to return the embrace more slowly, as always, then he freezes as she whispers something in his ear. Chloe watches as his arms tighten around her and he murmurs something back, and Trixie pulls away with a beaming smile before pressing a kiss to the devil’s cheek. His eyes are soft as he returns the smile and sends her back to her parents before leaning his head back onto the couch. Dan herds Trixie to the elevator and they take their leave, and Chloe watches her partner with a small smile on her face.</p><p>“What?” he asks without opening his eyes.</p><p>“Have you eaten today?”</p><p>“What?” he asks again, the question not at all what he’d been expecting.</p><p>“Because I haven’t, and I’m starving. I’m fixing us lunch.” Chloe moves toward the kitchen, and Lucifer watches her go for a moment before trailing after her. She’s gathering ingredients for her usual go-to quick meal—grilled cheese—so he seats himself at the bar, unwilling to get in her way.</p><p>“How’s the case going?” he queries tentatively after a moment.</p><p>“Waiting on forensics to verify some evidence before I call in a suspect for questioning,” she replies simply, flipping the first sandwich. “I’ve got a strong feeling this is the guy, I just want the evidence in hand before I talk to him.”</p><p>“Hmm,” he muses. “Overconfident, then?  Thinks he’s too smart to get caught?”</p><p>“Oh yeah,” she smirks. “I should have results soon, since Ella’s on the case.”</p><p>“Ms. Lopez is back to work already! She really <em>does</em> have ways of getting things done quickly,” He watches her in silence for another few minutes before hesitantly asking the question that’s really on his mind. “Are you angry with me?”</p><p>“I’m not,” she replies thoughtfully, after consideration. “Maybe I should be, but no, Lucifer, I’m not mad.”</p><p>“Ah,” uncertainty colors his voice. “So, disappointed, then.”</p><p>“How do you even <em>know</em> that phrase?” she huffs a laugh, and he tilts his head, confused. “The classic, ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed?’ I didn’t think that was a parental phrase you would be familiar with.”</p><p>“Oh. Just… Mum,”</p><p>“Wow, really? She used that on you?”</p><p>“Oh yes, me <em>and</em> Amenadiel… right before she threw us into the piano,” he grimaces, glancing over to the conspicuously empty space where his instrument usually sits proudly.</p><p>“God—I mean… <em>dammit</em>, I need to find a new word to say when I don’t know what to say,” now it’s Lucifer’s turn to chuckle, and their gazes meet. “I’m <em>not</em> mad, or disappointed. I think you told me all you could about your situation, and that’s really all I can ask… except that I didn’t like you asking me to stay away. Would you have told me the rest of it, if you’d managed to reverse it before I got here?”</p><p>“I didn’t <em>want</em> you to see me like that, Detective… certainly not your spawn, or even Daniel,” she tenses as she brings their plates over to the bar, but he continues, “But I did intend to tell you, yes. Show you even. I took some photos that I will be ever so glad to delete just as soon as possible.”</p><p>“You took pictures to show me?” His gaze doesn’t waver as he nods.</p><p>“No more running,” he reminds her, and she relaxes on her stool next to him as they eat. “Thank you for… for staying. For <em>helping</em>.”</p><p>“I’m not afraid of you, Lucifer. All in. I’m not running either.” She seems like she has more to say, but a text interrupts her train of thought. “Ha, tests are in. We got him.”</p><p>“Well, sounds like you’re off to work again, then,” he gives her a proud little smirk and she grins back at him.</p><p>“Coming with me?”</p><p>“I’d love nothing more, Detective, but I’d like to make sure I’ve got a good hold on this self-forgiveness before I venture out in public just yet. I still need to order another new piano, and restock my shelves. I made the list yesterday, but it was too late to place the orders.”</p><p>“That makes sense, I guess,” Chloe sighs dramatically. “I just miss you. My job is so much more lively when you’re around.”</p><p>“That’s because I wisely have other things to do when it comes time for paperwork. You should try it sometime.”</p><p>“And the paperwork would never get done,” she points out dryly, standing to clear their plates away.</p><p>“I’ve got these, darling, go get your murderer.”</p><p>*</p><p>The afternoon passes slowly. He texts the Doctor after Chloe leaves to go pick up her suspect, letting her know the situation has been resolved for now, but he’d like to keep his extra session for tomorrow for tips on maintenance. He sends a prayer to Arael letting him know as well, since he’s still not sure how often his brother checks his phone for messages.</p><p>Finally, he’s done all he can do, and he can’t take the inactivity anymore. He exits the elevator to Lux around four, and moves straight to the piano. The club isn’t crowded at this hour, maybe two dozen patrons scattered about chatting and drinking, but the music is softer and no one is dancing yet.</p><p>He seats himself on the bench and folds the fallboard back, running his fingers lovingly over the keys before closing his eyes and simply beginning to play. The club music stops and the people all focus on his music, but he pays them no mind. His eyes remain closed, his fingers dancing across the keys by memory and long practice alone. The music pours directly from his heart to his fingers with no thought involvement whatsoever, and his weary mind welcomes the respite with open arms. He spins himself a protective cocoon of melody, washing away the stress and anguish of the past few days in a river of song as the jagged fragments of his fractured peace soften and settle with the familiarity of the healing notes that fill the air. He plays, and they listen, and no one pays mind to the passage of time within reach of the resonating harmonies that flow from him.</p><p>He returns to himself when a flare of warmth in his chest and a gentle hand on his thigh cause his fingers to stutter to a halt. He turns his face toward his Detective without opening his eyes and feels as though he’s lifting his face to the warmth of sun, as though her light shines through his eyelids, turning the world a wash of pale rose gold.</p><p>“Hello, darling, you’re back early,” he murmurs, and opens his eyes to find her smiling fondly at him.</p><p>“Lucifer, it’s nearly 9 PM. You haven’t been responding to your texts and everyone was worried,” she tells him quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He looks around, astonished to note how the attentive crowd has grown since he took his position. “Patrick told me you’ve been playing for hours. Are you ready for a break?”</p><p>“I’m always ready for a break with you, love,” he purrs, and she laughs, grabbing his hand and tugging him up off the bench. A smattering of applause breaks out as they realize he’s done for the night, and he smiles briefly at them all before following Chloe to the elevator. “Did you catch your killer? How is the Urchin?”</p><p>“Yeah, we got him. He seemed disappointed that he wasn’t as clever as he thought he was. I stopped at the apartment after work— Trix is doing better. No more vomiting for the past several hours, she was actually hungry for dinner—and managed to keep it down. If she makes it through the night with no vomiting or fever, Dan will send her back to school tomorrow.”</p><p>“And her sentence for running out again without notice?”</p><p>“Dan confiscated her phone, removed the Uber app, and put a lock on her app store. “She also doesn’t get to train with Maze for two weeks.”</p><p>“Oof,” he breathes sympathetically. “Good choices. Very fitting, as I’m sure it was Maze that taught her how to guess passwords in the first place.”</p><p>“You’re probably right,” she sighs, shaking her head as the lift doors slide open on their level. “You need to check your phone and let everyone know you’re all right. I’m going to order us dinner.”</p><p>“My apologies, Detective, I’d no idea so much time had passed, I would have had dinner ready for us…”</p><p>“You looked pretty lost in the music,” she smiles softly at him as she pulls up the menu to a nearby Italian restaurant and places their order.</p><p>“Indeed I was,” his eyes go a little distant and a wistful smile crosses his lips, and she wants to kiss him. “I needed… I needed <em>not</em> to think for a time, and the only way I can do that is to play. Well…” his gaze sharpens and he leers at her suggestively, making her laugh, “there <em>is</em> another way, but you were busy, so I had to go with the backup.”</p><p>“Let everyone know you’re okay,” she reminds him, “and we can see about <em>not thinking</em> after dinner.”</p><p>*</p><p>“Lucifer, good morning!” Linda looks him over as she ushers him into her office for their session. “How did you manage to get rid of your spot?”</p><p>“Oh, if only that spot had been the worst of it, Doctor,” Lucifer laments, pouring himself a glass of water.</p><p>“It got worse?” She leans forward anxiously, looking again more closely in case she’d missed something.</p><p>“Worse than I’ve ever seen,” he confirms grimly, “and I’d like very much to avoid ever seeing it again, so please tell me you have some ideas for me?”</p><p>“I wish I had better news for you,” she shakes her head regretfully, and his hopes fall. “I just don’t know enough about how your self-actualization works. Guilt is a tricky thing, as you well know. How did you reverse it?”</p><p>“It <em>is</em> tricky,” he sighs, rubbing his palm over his face exhaustedly. “I can’t adequately describe just <em>how bad</em> it got, Doctor, but in the interest of full disclosure, I did take some photographs if you feel it might help give you an idea of just what I’m dealing with here. Be warned—as I told the Detective—it is really bad; truly monstrous.”</p><p>She considers for a moment, then holds out her hand in a request for his phone. He pulls up the photographs and passes it over, watching her closely for her response. She manages to keep her professional mask in place as she reviews the images that could have come from a horror movie, only a slight widening of her eyes betrays her concern for her patient.</p><p>“How quickly did it progress?”</p><p>“Fast. The more I thought about how to absolve myself, the more things surfaced that I should feel guilty for. When Arael came to visit me that evening, everything was present but the wings… they showed up while I was trying to get to sleep late that night.”</p><p>“So how <em>did</em> you reverse it, then?”</p><p>He sighs and gives her a lopsided smile. “I had help.”  She lifts her eyebrows and tilts her head in a silent invitation to continue, and he does. “The Detective’s offspring snuck away from her father the next morning and came to see me – she found me sound asleep in that form, and when I woke, she told me that my eyes were ‘really cool’. That little minx is terrifyingly clever you know—figured out straight away that I was punishing myself for what had happened.”</p><p>“She wasn’t afraid of you?”</p><p>“Not in the slightest,” he shakes his head, incredulous. <em>“I </em>was petrified that I was going to break her tiny brain, and the Detective would never speak to me again. And of course, I’d never be able to forgive myself for that…” He shakes his head, dispelling the thought before it takes root, “then <em>Daniel</em> appeared, chasing after his offspring.”</p><p><em>“Dan</em> saw you like that? Is he okay?”</p><p>“He was okay enough to ask me about my lack of tail,” he grumbles, but a pleased look flashes across his face as Linda laughs.</p><p>“Well, <em>that’s</em> certainly progress. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, please go on.”</p><p>“More of the same, Doctor,” he waves a casual hand, “They told me that I’m not a monster, the things I was feeling guilty for aren’t really my fault, blah-de-blah-de-blah.”</p><p>“And it worked?”</p><p>“Not straight away,” he admits easily. “Logically, I already <em>know</em> all those things, but that didn’t stop the <em>feeling</em> of guilt. It was… Beatrice wasn’t afraid of me. <em>At all</em>. Daniel was nervous, but was advocating for me anyway, and he… he told me that he doesn’t blame me for his current situation, or Charlotte… but he offered me <em>forgiveness</em> anyway. He told me that I needed to forgive <em>myself</em>, and I wanted to… that’s when we noticed that my hand had returned to normal.” He stares at his left hand in wonder for a moment before continuing, “And then the Detective came…”</p><p>“How did she take it?”</p><p>“Much better than last time,” he snorts softly, “which is really all I could ask for. She kissed me… touched me while I was in that form.”</p><p>“Could that be a possible argument that her primary issue <em>last time</em> perhaps wasn’t <em>you</em>, but the bigger truth she was confronted with?” Linda presses gently, “That her reaction <em>then</em> was more about the myth than the man?”</p><p>“Possibly,” he allows, his eyes still locked on his left hand. “I told her that I’d figured out why I hate myself—that I ruin everything I touch, <em>poison</em> everything important to me… and she told me…”</p><p>“What did she tell you, Lucifer?” Linda prods, when it seems as though he’s not going to continue.</p><p>“She said that I hate it when people blame me for their bad choices because I blame <em>myself</em> for them just as much, and that I need to stop taking responsibility for things outside of my control… and that I needed to forgive myself,” his voice is ragged with suppressed emotion. “And, Doctor, I <em>don’t know how</em>—but I wanted to.”</p><p>“Perhaps the wanting was the step you needed to take to bring you through crisis mode, Lucifer,” Linda suggests, nodding. “Now we just need to <em>keep moving forward.”</em></p><p>“If that means avoiding this particular incident in future, then I’m all for it,” Lucifer agrees heartily. “But what do I need to do?”</p><p>“It’s not easy—”</p><p>“Of course not,” he grumbles, “nothing else has been, why would <em>this</em> be?”</p><p>“Here’s some starters, Lucifer, and we can add more as you start to incorporate these,” she leans forward and he mirrors her, attention riveted on what she’s about to say. “You need to focus on the present, rather than dwelling on what’s already happened—I know that’s not easy—you have a <em>lot</em> more ‘past’ than your average person, but it’s important to keep from dwelling on what’s gone wrong.”</p><p>He thinks about this for a beat, nodding slowly with a pensive look on his face.</p><p>“You need to accept that you’re going to make mistakes—everyone does—and you’ll have to accept them as they happen and <em>let them go</em>. If you <em>can</em> do something to help repair them, then by all means do, but if not… then apologize and keep moving. It’s when you dwell and obsess over them that they entangle you and pull you down.” She stops and waits until he has a moment to process that, then waits longer until his eyes flick up to meet hers. She holds his gaze steadily as she continues, “You have grown <em>so much</em> in our time together, Lucifer, and you need to know that even regrettable necessary actions can result in growth and learning. We can’t freeze time in a moment of split-second decision making and weigh out every possible action, reaction, and result—we have to do what we feel is best and hope that it works out. <em>If it doesn’t—</em>then we remember that for next time, and take it into consideration then.”</p><p>She sees the unvoiced fear in his deep brown eyes… <em>But what if I mess up again?</em> “Mistakes are part of life, Lucifer, unless you’re not living. I told you and Chloe before—you’ve both been running in survival mode. It’s time to stop running, and start <em>living</em>. You can’t do that if you’re mired in your past.”</p><p>“You’re right, Doctor,” he breathes as though something has only just occurred to him. “Do you… do you think I should put off my return to Heaven for His announcement?  That… The Silver City is my past. Would that be going backward?”</p><p>“The decision is yours,” Linda says slowly, feeling her way carefully through the mine field before her. “But from what you’ve told me, negotiating the lift of your banishment wasn’t about going back, it was about being able to visit your friends there <em>in the future</em>. And possibly rebuilding some of your relationships with your siblings.  Is that still accurate?”</p><p>“Yes, I suppose it is,” he sighs, rubbing his face. “There will be no stopping the announcement at this late stage anyway, and I suppose I <em>can’t</em> not be present. It will be worth the headache to be able to continue to annoy all of you for eternity.” He grins now, his eyes lighting mischievously and she smiles warmly back. The end-of-session tone sounds, and he springs to his feet. “Besides, how else am I to continue my sessions with you if I can’t come visit you, eh?”</p><p>“Planning on never letting me retire, hm?”</p><p>“Oh, Doctor, how would I <em>ever</em> find someone to replace you?”</p><p>*</p><p>Chloe finds him at his <em>new</em> new piano that evening after finishing up her arrest reports from the case the day before. She settles next to him on the bench and watches his graceful fingers dance effortlessly across the keys, swaying slightly as the music washes gently over them both. When his hands drift to stillness, he leans against her with a contented sigh as the final notes shiver in the air around them.</p><p>“That was beautiful,” she murmurs into his neck, “what was it?”</p><p>“I don’t think it was ever named,” he hums against her ear, making her shiver, “I <em>know</em> it never got written down.”</p><p>“Did you write it?”</p><p>“I… might have helped it along a bit.” His right arm snakes around her waist and pulls her closer.</p><p>“Mmmhm,” she smiles, relaxing into his embrace, “when did you develop a sense of modesty?”</p><p>“Must be your terrible altruistic influence, Detective,” he brushes a kiss to her temple and pulls away reluctantly. “I’ll make some dinner, shall I? You must be starving, I’m positive you had one of those vile sandwiches from the machine at the precinct for lunch.”</p><p>“What do you have against the sandwich machine?” she laughs, “What has it ever done to you?”</p><p>“It didn’t <em>need</em> to do anything, Detective, it’s existence is quite enough,” he scoffs, “I’m all for technology and forward movement, but cuisine is an art form and should not come from a machine.”</p><p>“Says the man who adores Cool Ranch Puffs and Teeny-Tiny Donuts?” she teases lightly.</p><p>“Snacks are <em>different</em>,” he insists earnestly, and she knows a losing battle when she sees one.</p><p>“Of course they are,” she capitulates, grinning, and his eyes narrow at her suspiciously. “What are we having for dinner?”</p><p>A couple hours later, after a simple but delicious dinner of stir-fry (and a wandering conversation about the difference between stir-frying and pan-frying… which Chloe still isn’t sure she understands), they sit together on the couch and relax. The faint sounds of the city filter up to them through the open balcony doors and a languid, humid breeze drifts in. They sit in comfortable silence for a while before Lucifer speaks.</p><p>“The Urchin is well?”</p><p>“Yep, all good. Half the kids in her class have been down with that bug, it was only a matter of time,” Chloe shakes her head against his warm shoulder. “Kids get sick all the time, it’s part of being a kid.”</p><p>“I can’t say I’m sorry to have missed out on that particular human experience,” Lucifer smirks down at her, “the child seemed fairly miserable.”</p><p>“It’s not a <em>fun</em> part of being a kid,” Chloe admits, “but even though I hate seeing her sick, it’s kind of nice as she’s getting older to be reminded that she still <em>needs</em> me from time to time.”</p><p>“She’ll always need you, Detective, you’re her mother.”</p><p>“She’s growing up fast, she’ll be 11 soon,” she bites her lip, tracing her fingers across Lucifer’s chest absently. “She’s already so independent, I’m a little concerned about what her teenage years are going to be like.”</p><p>“Your offspring has a good heart, Detective, and she’s incredibly clever. Much like you, really,” he muses, brushing his hand absently up and down her bicep. Her heart swells at his sincere compliment. “While I’m sure there will be rough spots, I have every faith in you both to handle them with love and understanding. You’ll be <em>there</em> for her, and I understand that’s quite important. She’s incredibly lucky to have you as a parent, you’ve got what Dr. Linda would call a bond of trust there.”</p><p>“Actually, my credit with Trixie isn’t so great right now,” she sniffs. “We’re working on it, but what little I <em>do</em> have is thanks to you.”</p><p>“Your Urchin loves you,” he twists his head, trying to make out her expression. “Whatever are you talking about?”</p><p>“Dan and I are <em>both</em> in the doghouse with Trix right now,” she elaborates, “We both broke her trust badly with everything that’s happened in the past few months. That’s part of the reason why she keeps running to you, because she <em>knows</em> you’ll tell her the truth.”</p><p>“Detective, I—”</p><p>“You’ve defended us to her, and <em>that’s</em> the reason she’s been so willing to give us the benefit of the doubt, Lucifer. She knows you won’t lie to her, and she loves you.”</p><p>“Yes, she’s told me so,” he smiles softly and Chloe’s heart melts at the warm expression in his eyes. “She was quite worried that I wasn’t able to return her text the other night when I was so preoccupied by my self-actualization state.” The look on his face reminds her of watching the two of them together yesterday, as she was speaking to Dan about Trixie’s punishment for sneaking away.</p><p>“What did she say to you yesterday, when she hugged you before she left?”</p><p>“That she was glad I was feeling better,” his eyes light and grow even softer as he adds, “and that she loved me.”</p><p>“Of course she loves you,” Chloe assures him, “she tells you every night!”</p><p>“She does,” he laughs quietly, “but I think this was the first time she’d actually said it to me when she wasn’t traumatized.”</p><p>“She seemed very happy when she pulled away,” Chloe remembers suddenly.</p><p>“I surprised her,” his teeth flash in a proud smile, “I don’t think she expected me to say it back.”</p><p>Chloe’s eyes suddenly brim with tears, and whatever she was about to say freezes in her throat, so she simply hugs him tight. She finally manages to swallow the lump in her throat. “No wonder she was grinning so much. She loves having you as part of her family.”</p><p>She feels a faint vibration and Lucifer’s hand slips into his pocket. “Ah, speak of the Urchin, there’s my nightly notification. She’s very consistent.” He responds in his usual fashion and puts it away with a sigh. “Speaking of family, Detective, are we prepared for tomorrow?”</p><p>“How long do we think we’re going to be there?” She looks up at him trying to gauge his expression, but it’s carefully neutral. “Are you anticipating any trouble?”</p><p>“I asked Him about that. He said the announcement shouldn’t take long, but the celebration afterward might take some time. He… said He’s invited some of my friends that are already there.” A small smile crosses his lips, and he looks down at her. “From what I’ve heard from Amenadiel, Arael, and Phanuel, the Host has taken the news of my pending return quite well since the truth has been bandied about up there. I don’t think anyone would be cocky enough to cause trouble at a shindig He’ll be attending, at any rate, so we shouldn’t see any trouble. The announcement is bound to be dreadfully pompous and boring, but it will be marvelous to see Charlotte again, and Frank, if he’ll be there.”</p><p>“I knew you liked him.” Chloe teases.</p><p>“Well, he wasn’t half-bad at the piano,” his smirk fades into a sad expression, “He knew who I am, you know. Frank… he <em>knew</em> that I’m really the Devil. And he became my friend anyway.”</p><p>“I wish you could have known him longer,” Chloe murmurs, and his arm tightens around her shoulders.</p><p>“Maybe I still can,” he brushes his stubbled cheek against the crown of her head.</p><p>“Are they going to expect us to say anything? Make a speech or something?”</p><p>“I doubt they want to hear anything I have to say,” Lucifer scoffs. “I’ll likely be chewing my tongue to keep from saying something that some of my more aggressive siblings won’t take offense to, so you’ll likely be able to enjoy some rare silence from me, Detective.”</p><p>“Lucifer, if you don’t want—”</p><p>“No,” he interrupts her gently. “I talked with Dr. Linda about this, if I should consider putting off returning in order to avoid immersing myself in the past. Her suggestion was that my banishment being lifted isn’t about returning to my past, but paving a way to <em>our</em> future. If you decide that immortality is not for you, Detective, then I will let <em>nothing</em> stop me from coming to visit you in the Silver City. Well… provided that you <em>want</em> to see me, of course.”</p><p>“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, because I’m <em>not going anywhere</em>,” she reminds him firmly, melting into him. He hums into her hair, not arguing but not fully accepting her statement either and she sighs, knowing it’s something she’s going to need to prove over time. <em>At least I know he’s not going to run again.</em> “Do we know what time we’re supposed to be there tomorrow?”</p><p>“He’ll send someone for us, probably Gabriel again,” she feels the quirk of his lips against the top of her head. “I think you’ve got him quite intimidated, Detective, I’m very proud of you.”</p><p>“God, or Gabriel?” she smirks and he huffs a laugh.</p><p>“I was referring to Gabriel, but it certainly seems like you’ve got D—His respect as well. As it should be.”</p><p>“Still trying to work out what to call Him, huh?”</p><p>“Mm…” he heaves a sigh against her. “It’s probably best not to refer to him as ‘you bastard’ in front of my siblings. There would probably be Celestial cases of cardiac arrest if I did. Which, admittedly would keep Raphael busy, but… still probably better to avoid.”</p><p>“Has it been made public up there? Your disowning Him?”</p><p>“It appears not,” he shakes his head in consternation, “Gabriel and Phanuel seemed absolutely shocked when I told them, but perhaps it’s been spread by them now. I don’t know why He wouldn’t have said anything, except maybe by now not speaking to his children is just habit. I suppose it doesn’t truly matter, but it might affect how well they accept my freedom to visit.”</p><p>“Maybe He’s hoping you’ll change your mind?” Chloe muses, “He did say that He still considers you His son, didn’t He?”</p><p>His muscles tense as he considers this and a low growl rumbles in his chest, the only response he seems willing to give.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0045"><h2>45. Well, I'll be Damned.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe is in the shower when Gabriel appears early the next morning, calling loudly for his brother.</p><p>“Please tell me you are <em>not</em> going to try to drag us to the Silver City this early,” comes a muffled voice from the bedroom as Gabriel pokes his head inside the glass doors from the balcony.</p><p>“The Announcement is not ready to start yet,” Gabriel replies as he moves through the flat toward his brother’s voice, climbing the stairs to the bedroom. “But I had some things to address, and… brother?”</p><p>He stops short in the doorway as the bed comes into view. The sheets are rumpled and in the center is a long, groaning lump that he can only assume is his brother, with a pillow firmly mashed over his head. A long-fingered hand lifts the pillow and flings it at the Messenger, who easily catches it, regarding it curiously. “Is this a bad time?”</p><p>“It’s <em>early</em>, Gabriel. What do you want?” Lucifer lifts his head to glare at his brother, his hair sticking up in several directions. Gabriel lifts his hand to his mouth to stifle a snicker and Lucifer’s eyes narrow. <em>“Out with it, brother.”</em></p><p>“I, ah, brought you some vestments—”</p><p>“I won’t be wearing those,” he snorts. “I haven’t since my Fall and I’ve no intention of starting up again now. My suit will do quite well. Next?”</p><p>“Father asked me to pass the message that He had also extended an invitation to Ms. Decker’s father, so that you can prepare her.”</p><p>“I’ll let her know,” he says absently as he sits up, brushing his hand through his hair in a failing attempt to tame his curls. “Anything else?”</p><p>“I thought you might want to arrive a bit before the Announcement, to give yourself some time to adjust again? Your last visit wasn’t much longer than your first, and your second adjustment didn’t seem any easier than the first…”</p><p>“Hmm,” he considers for a moment. “That… is actually quite thoughtful of you, Gabriel. It’s true that I’d rather not appear weak in front of the Host. Could we perhaps arrange it so that we come early so Chloe can greet her father straightaway?”</p><p>“I can manage that now. Are you certain you don’t want to wear the vestments?” He offers the robes hopefully, and Lucifer glowers at them.</p><p>“I will never don the robes of Heaven again, brother. I much prefer my wardrobe here on Earth.”</p><p>Gabriel’s face falls a little, but he gathers the robes back into his arms without further argument. “I’ll be back once I’ve arranged the meeting with Ms. Decker’s father.”</p><p>Lucifer waves him off lazily, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and making his way into the kitchen to start the coffee. By the time Chloe emerges from the bathroom, Lucifer is standing in front of the stovetop in his black robe and boxer briefs sliding an omelet onto a plate and sipping his coffee-laced whiskey. She wanders into the kitchen and pounces on her own steaming mug of (unspiked) coffee before settling onto one of the stools to watch him work. He starts a second omelet before bringing the plated one to her and brushing a kiss against her temple. She murmurs a thank you, still focusing on her coffee.</p><p>Once he’s settled next to her at the bar and they both dig in, he breaks his news.</p><p>“Gabriel paid a visit while you were in the shower,” he begins, starting to cut his omelet into bite-size pieces. “He says that God has a surprise for you.”</p><p>“I don’t like surprises,” Chloe’s response is immediate, and Lucifer smiles at her.</p><p>“Which is likely why He sent Gabriel to tell us about it,” he reaches out and takes her hand. “I rather think you’ll like this one, though—He invited your father to the Announcement and celebration. Gabriel’s going to come get us early so you can have some time to speak with him before the big to-do.”</p><p>“He—what?” Chloe’s eyes widen and start to brim with tears. She’s glad she’s not holding her coffee mug, because it would have dropped from her nerveless fingers. “My father will be there? I’ll… I’ll get to see my dad today??”</p><p>“Chloe?” Lucifer asks worriedly, “I… I thought you’d be happy with the idea, but I can call Gabriel back if—”</p><p>“No! Oh my—Lucifer, no, this is… this is <em>amazing!</em> I never once thought—I don’t… Oh my… there’s so much I’ve got to tell him!”</p><p>“Hadn’t thought quite that far ahead, eh?” He relaxes a bit as he realizes she’s merely overwhelmed, not upset as he’d first feared.</p><p>“He doesn’t know I’m a cop! Or about Trixie, or you, or… oh… Wow, I get to tell my dad that I’m soulmates with you.” She rocks back on the stool, and he reaches a worried hand behind her to support her. “Oh my gosh Lucifer, today just got a <em>lot</em> more real.”</p><p>“Maybe it’s okay to leave the whole ‘the devil is my soulmate’ talk until your second meeting?” he suggests tentatively, trying to ease her mind. “You don’t have to tell him anything you don’t want to, Detective, I don’t even have to <em>meet </em>him today if you’re not comfortable—”</p><p>“Of <em>course</em> I want you to meet him!” she cries, bringing her hand up to brush her thumb along his scruffy cheek. “Of course I want you there with me, I wouldn’t even be able to speak with him if not for you, and I want you two to get to know each other.”</p><p>“Are you certain that’s a good idea, darling?” Lucifer shifts on his stool, and if it were any other man, Chloe would think he was <em>nervous</em> at meeting her father. “I don’t want to put you in an awkward position, but I’ve heard that fathers tend to <em>not</em> like men that date their daughters, and the last he remembers of you, you were only 19.”</p><p>“Yeah, but dad was never like that with the guys I dated—”</p><p>“And how many of the fellows you brought home were <em>the actual devil?”</em> he presses, and she finally sees what’s causing his hesitation.</p><p>“Lucifer, my family has never been religious—that’s part of the reason I… reacted… the way I did when I realized you’d been telling me the truth; the world that I knew got <em>so much bigger.</em>” She leans forward, resting her forehead against his and cupping the back of his head with the palm of her hand. “Dad’s been in Heaven for a while now, so he’ll already have that knowledge, right?” Lucifer nods, the slightest movement of his forehead against her own. “Then he should know that if you’re in Heaven, then you can’t be anything like what the church tries to make you out to be.”</p><p>“And if he doesn’t?” the question shivers in the tiny space between them, barely louder than a breath yet nearly deafening with despair.</p><p>“Then I will <em>educate</em> him,” she assures him, her blue-green eyes locked onto his brown ones, and she reads the relief there alongside his concern for her. She slides off her stool and closes the small distance between them. With him seated on the opposite stool, he’s nearly her height, so she doesn’t have to tip up on her toes to press her lips to his. He tastes of warm whiskey and coffee, and her hands travel eagerly over the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders on their way to tangle in his hair and pull him closer. He leans into her embrace, his hands sliding over her hips and up her back in a languid caress as she deepens the kiss. Heat blooms slowly in her chest and spreads licking flames underneath her skin everywhere they touch one another, until their breathing is shallow and ragged. He pulls away entirely too soon with a reluctant sound, and she moves to chase after him but his hand on her cheek stops her.</p><p>“Gabriel said he would be back soon for us. You still need to finish breakfast and I need to get dressed or he’s going to try to shove me into the vestments he tried to foist on me earlier… and I certainly won’t have <em>that.”</em></p><p>“He brought you clothes?” Chloe’s eyes sparkle with mirth as she tries to picture Lucifer in the type of clothing she’s seen Gabriel, Arael and Phanuel wearing. “Really?”</p><p>“He did, and <em>no</em> I will not put them on,” he smirks, but his tone brooks no argument. “I haven’t worn them since my Fall, and I have no intention of <em>ever</em> donning them again. I look much better in Prada… or nada.” He winks and she groans at the pun, resting her forehead against his bare chest as he chuckles at her reaction.</p><p>“If I get to see Dad today, I might change,” she muses. “If I bring a photo—an actual photo, not on my phone—will it make the trip?  I’d love for him to be able to see Trixie…”</p><p>“A photo will travel just fine, but you’re correct in thinking that your phone will not work there. They’re not built for interdimensional use… they pass through okay, but they won’t even power up in the other planes.”</p><p>“Oh, jeez… do I even <em>have</em> a printed photo?” Chloe suddenly realizes she might not… the days of keeping actual pictures in one’s wallet are sadly coming to an end. “Where’s my wallet?”</p><p>“If not, I’m sure we can print some from the office. Just e-mail them to yourself and we’ll make it work,” he grins at the rare sight of a flustered Chloe and finishes his breakfast quickly before going to make himself presentable.</p><p>She breezes in and out of the bathroom several times as he’s getting ready, fluttering anxiously here and there as she double and triple checks things in her eagerness to go. He’s putting the finishing touches on his hair when she appears in the doorway with a thick sheaf of papers clutched in her hands.</p><p>“I may have gone a little overboard with the photos…” she admits, embarrassed.</p><p>“You’ll have plenty of time to go through them, darling, remember time goes faster there.” He adjusts his cuffs and lightly applies his cologne before turning to face her with a fond smile. “So, once we get there, Gabriel will take you to your father while I reacclimate again. I’ll give you two some time alone together before I make a brief appearance, and then I’ll leave you to your visit? Does that work for you, Detective?”</p><p>“Reacclimate?” Her eyes sweep over him, as though checking for a problem. “I thought you did that the first visit?”</p><p>“Oh, I did,” he assures her readily. “But a short visit after an absence of billions of years isn’t enough to build a tolerance, I’m afraid. The last visit was nearly as bad an adjustment as the first, and that visit wasn’t very long either. I’m afraid it’s just going to take time and exposure before I can build my tolerance back up.”</p><p>“Lucifer… that seemed really painful?”</p><p>“Well, it’s certainly no picnic on the beach,” he allows cheerfully, “but there’s nothing for it if we’re to be able to visit. You can enjoy some uninterrupted time with your father, and I’ll spend some quality time with my Star of the Morning, rebuilding my divinity endurance.”</p><p>“I’d rather stay with you while you do that. I… don’t want to be away from you while we’re up there. I want you with me.” She pulls in a deep breath, and he suddenly notices how tightly she’s clutching the papers in her hands.</p><p>“Easy, Detective, we’ll be all right,” he tugs her into a loose embrace, and feels the rigidity of her muscles loosen as she leans into him. “This is no elaborate trap, and we’ll both be perfectly safe—together or apart.”</p><p>“I’m going to be worried about you if you’re not with me,” she whispers into his shoulder, “and it would be embarrassing to have a panic attack in front of my dad because I’m worried about the devil’s safety.”</p><p>He huffs a laugh into her hair and pulls her closer to him. “Detective, you haven’t seen your father in nearly 20 years, surely you—”</p><p>“Then another few hours while I wait with you won’t hurt, will it?” she interrupts stubbornly. He feels her tensing, and he can’t bear to add to her stress any further.</p><p>“Very well, Detective, we’ll do it your way,” he sighs as she relaxes in his arms. “I’ll try to pull myself together quickly so we don’t keep John waiting. Are you certain you want me there the entire time?”</p><p>“Afraid you’re gonna get bored?” she smirks up at him and he lifts an eyebrow back at her.</p><p>“Darling, I could listen to every detail of your life and never once even approach the vicinity of boredom… but if he decides he doesn’t approve of me, I don’t want you to be stuck in the middle.”</p><p><em>“If</em> that happens—and that’s a really big <em>if</em>—you don’t have to worry about me choosing you,” she reminds him staunchly. “I’m a grown woman, and I love <em>you</em>. While having you two get along would be great, I don’t <em>need</em> his approval to be with you. You’re mine, Lucifer… just like I’m yours. We’re a set, and he’s just going to have to accept that.”</p><p>“Detective…” his voice sounds a little choked and he clears his throat lightly, “I’ll do my very best to assure a smooth introduction.”</p><p>“I know you will,” she laughs, “I’m not worried.”</p><p>“Lucifer?” The Messenger’s voice from the balcony drowns out whatever Lucifer mutters in response to her statement, and they pull apart. “Brother?”</p><p>“Here, Gabriel,” Lucifer calls back. “Ready to go, are we?”</p><p>“John Decker is eagerly awaiting you in his Loop, Ms. Decker,” Gabriel’s smile is tight, but genuine.</p><p>“Ah yes, about that… slight change in plans,” Lucifer interjects. “The Detective prefers not to be parted from me, so she’ll be waiting with us while I adjust, and she wishes me to be present for her meeting with her father.”</p><p>“But what about—”</p><p>“I should still be able to adjust to the atmosphere even while inside a Loop,” Lucifer speculates. “It may not happen as quickly, but since the Detective is likely going to be busy catching up with her father, I should be able to focus on reacclimating.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t it be easier directly under the light of the Star?”</p><p>“It would be faster, yes, but it’s probably best for their reunion to take place out of the public eye. No sense drawing attention to the fact that a live human has access to Heaven for the first time in history. Are you ready, Detective? Got your photos?”</p><p>“Yep, all set.” She’s practically vibrating with eagerness, and Lucifer hides his grin in her hair as they unfurl their wings and he folds her into his arms for transport. Seeing her so excited has made this entire farce worth it to him.</p><p>He manages not to crumple to the ground upon arrival, but Chloe feels him sag against her and she braces herself under his arm to help support his weight. He folds in on himself, ragged gasps wracking his frame as the wave of divinity crashes down on him once more. Gabriel wedges himself under the arm that Chloe isn’t occupying to help support his bulk. He clenches his jaw and manages to stifle his weighted groan into a low whine instead.</p><p>He spreads his wings to help his balance and lifts his face toward the silver starlight falling from above, pulling in a deep breath and holding it as he Wills the adjustment to speed up. Chloe folds her wings away and watches him intently, his expression intensely focused on controlling his reaction as well as he can.</p><p>“Why doesn’t it affect me?” she wonders aloud, and Gabriel’s gaze snaps to her, curious. “My divinity was his… shouldn’t I be in just as much pain as he is right now?”</p><p>“I don’t think it has anything to do with his divinity, but with his length of time in Hell,” Gabriel muses. “There is some ambient divinity—light—on your plane, but there is virtually <em>none</em> in Hell. It would be like…” he pauses, searching for a comparison she would understand.</p><p>“Imagine spending months in a cave with no light, Detective,” Lucifer grunts, “then emerging from the opening on a night with a full moon. That would be coming from Hell to Earth.  Now, imagine emerging from the complete darkness of the cave suddenly into a cloudless summer afternoon.  You’d be blinded, paralyzed. You’d need some time for your eyes to adjust to the overwhelming light after so long in the dark. It’s discomfiting, and overwhelming, but not <em>truly</em> painful.”</p><p>“Lucifer, no offense, but I think your pain meter might be a little bit warped from your experiences,” Chloe squeezes him tightly around his waist. “Because that definitely sounds painful.”</p><p>“You may have a point there, darling,” he huffs a dire laugh as he attempts to straighten up, stretching his wings wide to catch the divine light of the star above. Chloe has a sudden mental image of an enormous vulture sunning himself, and she frantically stifles her slightly hysterical laughter into a light cough. She doesn’t think her partner would appreciate the comparison, so she’s grateful that he’s distracted enough for her moment to go unnoticed.</p><p>After a time, he’s able to stand to his full height, fold his wings away, and take a few steps without staggering or leaning on them too heavily. Gabriel cautiously pulls away, hovering nearby in case of relapse, but Chloe keeps her arm wrapped securely around his waist.</p><p>“Alright, Gabriel, lead the way to Papa Decker’s Loop, if you please, I think the Detective has waited long enough.” Gabriel walks slowly, walking in line with the guests of honor rather than leading them, the better to lend a hand if needed. Lucifer glances over at Chloe, whose eyes are scanning the landscape. She has one arm wrapped around his waist and the other pressed to his chest for further support. “Where are your photos Detective?”</p><p>“I tucked them in my waistband so I wouldn’t lose them,” she grins up at him. “If you’re good, I’ll let you get them out before we go into Dad’s Loop.”</p><p>“Ooooh, bribery,” he coos, batting his eyes playfully. <em>“I like it.”</em></p><p>Gabriel’s cheeks flush a pale pink, and Lucifer is turning to tease him when a wall of cream feathers with red barring suddenly appear before them.</p><p>“Lucifer! You’re here early!” The deep, joyful voice of Raguel rings out across the Heavenly plane, and Lucifer glances around nervously. Raguel notices the look, and that his brother is being supported on both sides, and a bit of the joy bleeds from his demeanor. “Are you still wounded, brother? Are you going to Raphael for treatment?”</p><p>“Ah, hello, Raguel,” Lucifer stammers, taken aback by the sudden appearance of a jubilant sibling. “No, I’m not going to Raphael, we, ah, we came early to meet with someone. May I introduce Detective Chloe Decker? Chloe, this is Raguel, angel of justice. You two may find you have a common outlook.”</p><p>“Ms. Decker,” Raguel inclines his head politely, folding his wings tightly behind his back. His medium-length strawberry blond hair bobs with the movement, and his stubby fingers restlessly brush it back from his expressive grey eyes. He’s the shortest angel Chloe’s met so far, only an inch or two taller than she is but he’s broad-chested and well-muscled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my brother Arael has told us wonderful things about your work on the Earthly plane.”</p><p>“He… really?” Chloe blinks at him, then looks to Lucifer, whose beaming smile is full of pride.</p><p>“You work to bring to justice those who use their free will to harm others,” Raguel prattles on, unaware of her surprise. “It is a worthy occupation.”</p><p>“Well, Lucifer helps a lot,” she prevaricates, smiling up at her partner. “Our solve rate is the highest in the county.”</p><p>“Your talents mesh well together, I’m sure,” Raguel praises them. “I worked closely with Lucifer when he lived among us here, and I know his integrity is unfailing.”</p><p><em>Then where were you when Michael was breaking his wings and flinging him into Hell like a rotten egg?</em> Chloe bites her lip so that doesn’t slip through her filter. A surge of rage pulses through her, and the hand resting on Lucifer’s chest unconsciously clenches in the fabric of his jacket. <em>Where were you when he was burning alive in a crater all alone? Or the millennia afterward?</em></p><p>Lucifer seems to glean something of her line of thought, because his arm tightens around her shoulder, guiding her to keep moving. “It’s good to see you again, Raguel, but we do have an appointment to keep.  I’m sure we’ll be able to catch up some at the celebration after His announcement.”</p><p>“It <em>is</em> good to see you back home,” his brother agrees jovially. “Will you be taking back your name, or will you keep using your title?”</p><p>“I have no interest in reclaiming my old name. It never suited me anyway,” Lucifer replies lightly, brushing it aside though Chloe can feel him tensing beside her. “Lucifer is my name now, I answer to nothing else.”</p><p>Raguel nods solemnly, expression tinged with some sadness that Chloe doesn’t quite understand. “Welcome home, brother, it will be good to have you back again, we have sorely missed your light.”</p><p>Lucifer nods wearily, and they watch as Raguel springs into the air and glides away.</p><p>“Is the entire host unaware that I do not intend to make this my home, Gabriel?” Lucifer hisses in frustration. “I thought I’d been very clear about that detail?”</p><p>“I know Phanuel has related your tale and intentions faithfully, and Arael, Azrael, and Amenadiel as well,” the Messenger shrugs. “I think our siblings cannot envision one of us wanting to live anywhere <em>but</em> the Silver City, as most of them rarely—if ever—leave it.”</p><p>“Bloody fantastic,” he mutters to himself, “I may have to make an announcement of my own after all, if they’re all going to be banging on about it.”</p><p>“Maybe you can ask God to mention it?” Chloe suggests quietly, “They’ll probably listen if He says it, right?”</p><p>“Maybe. If we see Him before the announcement, I’ll bring it up.”</p><p>They walk on in companionable silence until Gabriel stops at one of the towers. “Here we are. Ms. Decker, press your palm against the pad and the door you need will appear in the entrance. I’ll come to retrieve you when the gathering begins.”</p><p>“Thank you Gabriel,” Lucifer murmurs as his brother turns away. He pulls himself away from her and stands to his full height, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. Chloe is frozen, staring at the pad on the wall with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. He waits patiently next to her, trying to think of the best way to help. “Ready when you are, Detective—though the offer for me to await you out here is still open to you.”</p><p>Before he can finish the offer, her left hand snakes out and grasps his right, tightly threading her fingers through his. “You’ve got this, darling. He’s your father, and if he’s half as amazing as you seem to think he is, he’s going to be deliriously proud of the woman you’ve become.”</p><p>“Will he?” her wide eyes meet his, swirling with doubts. Shallow breaths ring in her ears. “What if he’s horrified that I became a cop? He was always talking about how <em>dangerous</em> it is.”</p><p>“Well, then perhaps he’ll be glad that you can choose to be effectively immortal so you don’t have to share his fate?” Lucifer proposes hopefully. “I’m sorry darling, I’m perfectly willing to support you however I can; but I am really not going to be any help here, you know what my relationship was like with mine…”</p><p>Her breathing hitches, and her eyes dilate as she stares up at him. He grips her hand tightly and steps toward her, his lips capturing hers as he pulls her close with his free hand. She remains frozen for another moment before she melts into the kiss, returning it with fervor until they’re both short of breath. He pulls away, resting his forehead against hers with their noses bumping gently against one another.</p><p>“Better?” he whispers with a smile.</p><p>“Best grounding method <em>ever</em>,” she sighs. “You’ve definitely earned retrieving the photo printouts now.”</p><p>His smile turns to a mischievous grin as his hands slide around her waist and purposely grab her ass with a firm squeeze before he murmurs a laughing “Oops” in her ear. He pulls the sheaf of neatly-folded papers from her waistband and presses another kiss to her lips before stepping back and presenting them to her with a courtly bow.</p><p>“Are you ready now, darling?”</p><p>She reaches up and strokes his cheek with her hand before she takes the photos from him, pressing the palm of her right hand against the pad and grabbing his hand again with her left. The doorway slowly fills in from blank whiteness to an open sitting room in warm tones—burnished wood floors strewn with rag rugs with comfortable well-worn furniture and photographs covering the walls and shelves. A tall, lean man with neat brown hair and an angular jaw enters, carrying a tray with glasses of iced tea arranged upon it, stopping short when he sees them. His hazel eyes light with excitement and he hurries to set the tray on the coffee table.</p><p>“Chloe!” His voice is light but masculine, and the love that saturates it makes Chloe’s throat close at the memory of the last time she’d heard it, nearly 20 years ago. “Monkey, it’s so good to see you! My goodness, look at you, you’re all grown up!”</p><p>“Hi, Dad,” she manages to choke out, “I missed you so much!” Lucifer deftly slips his hand from hers and nudges her toward the other man. She takes a step forward and John closes the distance, wrapping his daughter in an embrace that has them both crying joyful tears.</p><p>The Devil watches his Detective fold herself into her father’s embrace, a warm light dancing in his eyes and flaring in his chest at her incandescent happiness. He steps away slowly, trying not to draw any attention from their reunion as he moves to the walls and starts perusing the photographs. Unsurprisingly, they’re family photos, a younger John and Penelope, then photos of a spawn that he has to assume is Chloe, judging by the blue eyes and wide smile. He can see hints of Beatrice in that smile, the shape of the immature nose, and the crinkles around the eyes when the smile is especially wide. He hums quietly to himself in amusement as he spies several photographs of Spawn Chloe in embarrassing poses or outfits, perhaps for holidays or some acting photo shoots that Penelope had likely dragged her to. Many more photographs reflect outdoor activities; shots of John and young Chloe camping, fishing, or hiking, even one of Chloe apparently trying to start a fire with a striker… the photograph shows a panicked look on her face as the tips of her long hair burst into flame, John laughing in the background with a canteen of water tipped toward her, about to put out the tiny conflagration. He has to work very hard not to laugh out loud at that one, not wanting to interrupt their moment with his irreverent entertainment. He’s made his leisurely way three-quarters around the room before Chloe sniffles and pulls back from the embrace, abruptly returning to herself.</p><p>“Dad, I can’t believe you made <em>this</em> your Heaven!” she looses a watery laugh, looking around disbelievingly.</p><p>“What, I love it here!” He protests, chuckling. “Loads of good memories at this cabin, and the lake has just as many fish as I could ever hope to catch.”</p><p>“Do they still steal your bait?”</p><p>“If they do, I always have more.” His eyes crinkle with his smile. “Please, sit.”</p><p>Chloe turns and catches Lucifer’s eye, holding out a hand to him in a request. He hesitantly abandons his perusal of the photographs and crosses the room, and she pulls him in close.</p><p>“Lucifer, this is my dad, John Decker,” Chloe announces calmly, her arm tightening around his waist in a message he can’t interpret. “Dad, this is Lucifer Morningstar, my soulmate.”</p><p>“Well you certainly don’t pull any punches, do you, Detective?” he murmurs to her, as John’s eyes flicker between the two of them, trying to decide if his daughter is joking or not. He extends his hand and greets the man at a more normal volume. “Lovely to meet you, John, Chloe’s told me wonderful things about you.”</p><p>John shakes the devil’s hand warily, and doesn’t try to turn it into a test of masculinity by squeezing—something that always amuses Lucifer when men try it on him. “Lucifer Morningstar? Parents had an odd sense of humor, hm?”</p><p>“Oh, I assure you they do not. They’re much more… literal-minded.” At Chloe’s stifled giggle, a slow grin spreads across his face. “This name is the least of my misfortunes at my family’s hand, I’m afraid. But… I digress. We’re here so you and the Detective can catch up, so don’t mind me, I’m perfectly capable of amusing myself—”</p><p>“Detective?” John’s eyes widen in surprise as he sinks into the wing-backed chair behind him. “Chloe, honey—did you join the force? How long have I been gone?”</p><p>Chloe tugs Lucifer over to sit on the couch with her, not willing to let him go, and starts to fill her father in on the past twenty years.</p><p>“I joined the LAPD a couple years after you were shot, Dad…” she sniffs again, and Lucifer nudges her gently in support. “Acting was never really my thing, and… I wanted to make a difference like you.”</p><p>“Monkey, that job got me an early death—I didn’t want that for you—” he protests weakly, but Lucifer cuts in.</p><p>“Chloe is the <em>best</em> homicide detective on the force,” he proclaims quietly, and the pride in his voice is so heavy that John blinks in surprise. “Her instincts are uncannily accurate, and her morals are incorruptible—trust me on that. She sets a shining example of policework for the entire precinct.”</p><p>“You sound like you’ve seen her in action.”</p><p>“Every day,” his eyes gleam as he grins, “we’re partners. But you should let her tell the rest of her tale now, she has quite a lot to fill you in on.”</p><p>And she does. She tells him about Penelope, meeting Dan, getting married, and Trixie— proudly showing the photos she’s printed, and it’s obvious from his rapt expression that John is already wrapped around his granddaughter’s finger without ever even meeting her.</p><p>“Is she yours?” John asks hesitantly, “The two of you, I mean—She’s… she has his coloring, a bit.”</p><p>“No,” Chloe blurts before Lucifer can implode in horror at the implication of being a father. “Trixie is Dan’s, I didn’t meet Lucifer until she was 7. She made him one of her best friends right away.”</p><p>“Bit of a charmer, huh?” John narrows his eyes at the devil, who smiles back blandly.</p><p>“For everyone <em>but</em> your daughter, it seems,” Lucifer nods regally, then smiles fondly at Chloe, picking up her hand and kissing the back of it tenderly. “I’m working to be worthy of her regard every day.”</p><p>“How did you two meet, then?” John’s gaze fixes on Lucifer. “You don’t really look much like a cop.”</p><p>“Oh, dearie me, no,” Lucifer recoils at the idea and Chloe laughs softly.</p><p>“We met when a friend of his was shot in a drive-by,” Chloe supplies easily, “I got assigned the case, but Lucifer didn’t trust the police to find the killer, so he investigated on his own, and I kept tripping over him on my investigation until we decided to work together. Now he’s a civilian consultant, and the best partner I could ever ask for. Do you think Delilah be there today?” She turns to Lucifer with the question.</p><p>“I don’t know if she was invited or not,” he muses thoughtfully. “It would be lovely to see her again.”</p><p>“Yeah, what is this thing today?” John glances between the two of them curiously. “It’s not really normal for the living to gain access to Heaven, but the angel that stopped in assured me that you weren’t dead.”</p><p>“Well… Dad, here’s where it starts to get a little odd,” Chloe reaches blindly for Lucifer’s hand again, and he allows her fingers to thread through his despite his concern at the new topic. “Lucifer’s name isn’t an affectation. He <em>is</em> Lucifer, the archangel. And the gathering today is God’s announcement to welcome him back to Heaven.”</p><p>“Lucifer,” John repeats blankly, his eyes growing wider as the devil blinks benevolently back at him. “Lucifer the <em>fallen angel.</em> Satan. The Devil. <em>That</em> Lucifer?”</p><p>“Oh, please don’t leave out Old Scratch, that one is a particular favorite of mine,” Lucifer adds playfully. “But yes, I’d spent the past few billion years ruling Hell until I retired and wound up in LA.”</p><p>“Could I have a moment with my daughter, please?” he manages to choke out, and Lucifer’s heart sinks.</p><p>“Of course,” he murmurs, but Chloe refuses to let him disentangle his hand from hers. “Detective, it’s all right, I can just go down to the lake, and—”</p><p><em>“No,</em>” she cuts him off gently but implacably. “I told you Lucifer, I don’t want you out of my sight while we’re here. Please, stay.” His deep brown eyes gaze at her imploringly, but she doesn’t relent. “Lucifer and I come as a set, Dad. His family has a terrible track record with him, and I don’t trust them. We watch each other’s backs, always,<em> especially</em> here.”</p><p>“You introduced him as your soulmate,” John recalls suddenly.</p><p>“Please don’t ask if she sold her soul to me,” Lucifer groans, rubbing a palm over his face in exasperation as John startles at his sudden movement. “I really do get so tired of debunking that myth, and I swear if Michael were in front of me now, I’d kill him myself for just that bit of misinformation alone.”</p><p>“Okay Dad, here’s the short version. If you want to know more later we can talk about it, but for now, here we go; Lucifer’s an archangel, he was tossed into Hell by his insane, jealous brother because his dad had a job for him to do there. Everything you might think you know about the Devil is absolutely wrong. I was born as a result of a nearly-direct intervention from God, who gave me the ability to <em>not</em> be affected by Lucifer’s particular talents, and a little immunity to divinity in general—so you and Mom weren’t wrong when you called me a miracle. We met, we became partners, then friends. When I realized he’d been telling me the absolute truth all that time about who he is, I didn’t react well and I did some horrible things—”</p><p>“Detective—” Lucifer starts to interrupt softly, but quiets when she gently strokes his cheek and continues.</p><p>“But we’ve managed to work through it all, and we’re finally together now. In the past few months we’ve <em>literally</em> been through Hell and back. I wound up with some of his divinity along the way, and we’re linked together, so I’m basically immortal now. And since Lucifer is now allowed to visit Heaven, I am too.”</p><p>The silence rings when she finishes speaking. Her father’s eyes had gotten so large during her vastly abridged tale that Lucifer had become moderately worried they might actually roll out onto the floor of the cabin. John swallows and starts to speak several times before apparently thinking better of whatever he was about to say. Finally, he picks up his glass of iced tea and takes a deep drink. Lucifer pulls his flask from his jacket pocket and does the same, earning a smirk from Chloe and a lifted eyebrow from John, both of which he ignores.</p><p>“So the, ah, event today?” John ventures after a while.</p><p>Chloe looks to Lucifer, who takes the hint and answers. “Today is the official announcement of the reinstatement of my visiting privileges. Followed by the celebration. The entire angelic Host will be in attendance, as well as a few of my human friends that have already passed into Heaven.”</p><p>“How did I score an invite, then?”</p><p>“Your invitation was extended on behalf of the Detective, of course,” Chloe’s hand tightens on his, and John’s sharp eyes don’t miss that tiny motion. “God thought it would be a nice gesture.”</p><p>“Okay then,” John drawls slowly, “It might take a little time to wrap my brain around the fact that I’ve somehow managed to come to God’s personal attention, even briefly.”</p><p>“I can certainly understand that,” Lucifer commiserates, “His regard can be quite overwhelming, but you needn’t worry about him dropping in for tea… he generally prefers to keep his distance, really.”</p><p>“Good to know.”</p><p>“I wondered…” Lucifer begins tentatively, when the silence around them starts to become oppressive, “there’s a photo on the wall over there of the Detective with her hair on fire… I would <em>love</em> to know the story behind it.”</p><p>“Dad!” Chloe covers her face with her free hand, “You did <em>not</em> put that photo up here!”</p><p>“Oh, I assure you darling, he did, and it was quite entertaining, even <em>without</em> knowing the story.” Lucifer grins at her teasingly, and John’s observant eyes can see from the way they look at each other, the way they <em>move</em> with one another that their bond is a real one, forged with time and effort and honed by conflicts weathered together. That information settles his mind, and the rest of their visit is spent sharing stories.</p><p>John watches the pair closely, and every observation eases his concerns a bit more. He takes in Lucifer’s genuine interest in Chloe’s life, his pride in her accomplishments, his gentle teasing coupled with genuine affection, and their deep connection evident in the way one never loses track of the other. He notices that while the devil never calls his granddaughter by her given name, when he speaks about her his tone is warm and his words are affectionate. He’s only called Chloe by name once, when he’d boasted about her being the best detective on the force, but Chloe <em>glows</em> when he calls her ‘Detective’ or ‘darling’, which is often.</p><p>Chloe in turn is nearly always touching him, his hand, arm, shoulder… even teasingly in less-appropriate places when she thinks John isn’t looking, which always results in a wicked grin from Lucifer and a stifled smile and quick aversion of eyes from John. Chloe always calls him by name, never an affectation, and he wonders how that habit developed. She refers to Trixie as Trix, Monkey, Weasel… but Lucifer is <em>always</em> ‘Lucifer’.</p><p>He’s chuckling at Lucifer’s story of exactly how hard he’d had to work to master making Chloe’s favorite Hawai’ian bread sandwich when the soft sound of a throat clearing comes from the doorway. The sandy-haired angel that had introduced himself as Gabriel stands there diffidently, hands clasped before him.</p><p>“Father requests your presence before the announcement, Lucifer,” Gabriel announces, “Will you come?”</p><p>“I did have a couple of things I wanted to be sure were addressed during the announcement, so yes I’ll go.” Chloe is on her feet before he finishes the sentence, and Lucifer glances up at her, amused. <em>“We’ll</em> go.”</p><p>He rises gracefully from the couch, extending his hand to John in a friendly manner. “It was truly a pleasure, John, we’ll be back to visit again… and at some point we may even convince the Detective that I’m safe to leave unattended while she visits with you.”</p><p>Chloe’s father takes the Devil’s hand and shakes it firmly. “You take care of one another, that’s what’s important.”</p><p>“We’re working on it, Dad.” Chloe’s eyes flicker between the two men with a warm smile. “We’ll see you later, yeah?”</p><p>“I’ll be there.”</p><p>*</p><p>Chloe senses Lucifer growing tense and wary beside her as Gabriel guides them through the shining streets of the City. She glances up at him surreptitiously, but his face is set in a mask of nonchalance.</p><p>“This isn’t the way to the Audience Chamber, Gabriel,” Lucifer accuses, and Gabriel turns to him with a cautious expression.</p><p>“Father isn’t at the Audience Chamber yet, it’s already starting to fill with the Host. They’re eager to welcome you back.”</p><p>“If we’re not meeting Him at the Audience Chamber, where <em>are</em> we going?”</p><p>“Brother…”</p><p>“You <em>can’t </em>be serious,” Lucifer stops walking, planting his feet. “Even <em>He</em> can’t be that obtuse, Gabriel.”</p><p>“You know it’s the only other place here with any privacy, Lucifer…”</p><p>“I have no desire to set foot there ever again,” Lucifer grits through his clenched jaw. Chloe feels his hand trembling as it clutches hers. “I certainly don’t need to speak to Him that badly.”</p><p>Chloe’s gaze travels from her partner to his brother and back again, working to piece together what’s happening. When she does, a wave of fury washes over her.</p><p>“You’re taking us <em>there?</em>” she shouts, her voice echoing angrily from the glinting towers surrounding them. Her stomach lurches at the thought of Lucifer having the memories of his Fall re-opened and shoved in his face again… was God <em>trying</em> to break him? “No way.”</p><p>“We’re nearly there already,” Gabriel pleads, turning to face them with open palms stretched out.</p><p>“You don’t know what you’re asking of him,” Chloe argues vehemently, stepping in front of her partner, who shows no indication that he’s willing to move from his current position. His lips are compressed, eyes locked in the middle distance, and Chloe has no doubt that he’s already seeing the dreaded location in his mind’s eye. “We’re not going to—"</p><p>“We’ll go,” Lucifer cuts in abruptly, and Chloe whirls to face him, ready to argue further. He bows his head and raises his hand, palm out in a ‘wait’ gesture. “Dr. Linda is right. I can’t… let myself be mired in the past anymore. I <em>need</em> to see it, Chloe, to… to put my metaphorical ghosts to rest.”</p><p>“Lucifer, are you sure?” She steps close, ducking her head and twisting until she can meet his downcast eyes. He gives her a tight smile and holds out his hand for her to take.</p><p>“Not even a little, Detective,” he admits candidly, and his voice hitches in his throat. “But if I’m to really move forward, I need to let go of my past. And as much as I don’t want to go back there—it <em>feels</em> like exactly the right thing to do.”</p><p>Her hand moves to caress his cheek, and he nuzzles into her palm with a sigh as she considers. “All right,” she concedes after a long moment. “I’ve got your back when you’re ready, then.”</p><p>“I know you do, darling,” he murmurs against her palm, covering her hand with his and pressing a kiss there before pulling it away to cover his heart instead. His gaze fixes on Gabriel, who is watching the pair abashedly. “The sooner we go, the sooner we can leave.”</p><p>He doesn’t wait for Gabriel to lead, but strides off briskly, shoulders squared and head high as though he’s facing a firing squad. Chloe stretches her legs to keep up, but he manages to keep ahead of her by sheer length of stride alone. She slows her steps when he does, watching him carefully but knowing somehow that he needs to face this without her hovering too closely.</p><p>The tension in his shoulders is wound so tightly that the fabric of his Prada jacket strains across them as he approaches the courtyard in front of a nondescript domed building. His footsteps slow, then stop entirely as his head tilts one direction, then the other.  Gabriel approaches and halts at her side, watching his brother anxiously. Lucifer takes a few more steps forward before circling around a nondescript area until his back is to her, then carefully steps into the invisible circle as though afraid the stone beneath him will swallow him whole.</p><p>*</p><p>Lucifer gingerly moves to stand on the innocuous bit of stone where Michael had held him to the ground at swordpoint, where his siblings had beat him and shattered his wings, where his beloved father had turned away and his mother watched in silence… and he feels nothing. Perhaps a faint sense of loss, of grief long since rotted away to the bones of apathy. The agonizing tsunami of painful memories he’d been expecting—dreading—doesn’t come. The corner of his mouth twitches as a relieved smile lights his countenance and it’s as though the crushing burden of his past existence is suddenly lifted from him. He pulls in what feels like his first <em>real</em> breath in millennia, and the tension bleeds from him in a rush, taking his strength with it. He sinks to his knees but remains otherwise upright, his face upturned to catch the starlight beaming gently down from his heavenly creation. He feels… at peace. The gaping wound that he had feared uncovering when he pulled this particular scab has managed to heal at last, and the anxiety that had been building since he’d discovered where they were heading dissipates into nothingness. He’s surprised when a chuckle burbles from his lips, softly at first but gaining in volume as his rising joy bursts forth until the courtyard rings with the rich tones of his unfettered mirth.</p><p>He comes to himself when a small hand tentatively brushes his face, fingers tracing gently along the skin under his eyes. He opens his eyes to find Chloe crouched in front of him, her concerned face inches from his own. He grins up at her, eyes alight with exhilaration and he sees the relief in hers. He closes the space between them, pulling her to him and pressing his lips to hers in a jubilant kiss until a hard cough from Gabriel makes him aware he’s been trying to get their attention for some time. Their breathing is ragged when he pulls away, and her cheeks are wet.</p><p>“Detective, you’re crying,” he murmurs and she shakes her head, looking up at him worriedly.</p><p>“I’m not, Lucifer,” she corrects him gently, <em>“you are.”</em></p><p>“What?” he brushes his fingers disbelievingly over his face, and sure enough, his fingers come away wet. “Well, I’ll be damned.”</p><p>“I’ve never seen you cry, Lucifer,” she presses her forehead to his, ignoring Gabriel’s attempts to get their attention, “talk to me.”</p><p>“I haven’t, not since before my Fall,” he confesses reluctantly. “I couldn’t afford the weakness, Detective, the demons… I couldn’t betray <em>any</em> type of weakness, physical or emotional. The Doctor was right, I was stuck, trapped, but… <em>Chloe</em>… I think maybe I’m not anymore.”</p><p>“I don’t understand,” she bites her lip, and his hands lift up to frame her face. He lifts his chin to brush his lips to her forehead.</p><p>“I think… I thought…” he sighs, grasping for words and she waits patiently as his warm breath suffuses her hair. “I was terrified to come back here, Detective. I thought it would crush me, maybe even break whatever bits of me that may have been mended. But… I don’t feel anything. None of the fear, or the pain… only a kind of faded loss. This… what happened here… it’s part of who I am, but I think I’ve managed to choose not to let it define me anymore. Perhaps I’ve grieved for my past for so long now that the button has finally stopped working.” She pulls back, searching his face for any hints that he’s trying to convince himself of something, but all she can see is relief and a lightness in his eyes that borders on glee. “I’ll need to speak to Linda of course, to know for sure, but… for the <em>first time</em> I feel <em>free</em>. Like I can finally look toward a future without looking over my shoulder for my past.”</p><p>“Lucifer…” she breathes, her eyes widen as she processes what he’s telling her. “You’re really okay?”</p><p>“I’d much rather be at home with you rather than kneeling here in this bloody courtyard, but yes, I’m okay,” he assures her truthfully. “Now, shall we see what the old bastard needs so we can get this charade over with?” She nods, laughing as he springs eagerly to his feet, holding out a hand to help her onto hers. “Alright Gabriel, do you need a cough drop? Let’s get a wriggle on, we’ve got places to be.”</p>
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<a name="section0046"><h2>46. Defending the Devil in Heaven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The workshop door clicks open at their approach and Lucifer doesn’t hesitate, striding forward with a bounce in his step that reflects the new lightness in his heart. He stops short inside the threshold, his eyes drawn to the open space where the ceiling would be in a normal room but here a grouping of tiny, strategically placed stars illuminate the room.</p><p>“You still have them,” he murmurs, surprised. Chloe stops beside him and takes in the revolving chaos around them. Oddly shaped implements that she can only assume are some kind of tools circulate around the edges of the occupied portion of the room, out of the way, but seemingly ready for use at a moments’ notice. God lifts his gaze from the glowing surface of his worktable and smiles at Lucifer’s astonishment.</p><p>“Of course I still have them, Lucifer,” he gestures at the surrounding room. “They’re a masterpiece, and I remember how proud you were when you created them for Me.”</p><p>Chloe takes Lucifer’s hand, relieved to find that the trembling tension she expects to find there isn’t present. He squeezes her fingers gently, and she threads them between his. He clears his throat. “What did You need to talk about? Gabriel says the Audience Chamber is already filling, so we should be going soon.”</p><p>“I know you had items you wanted Me to address with the Host, and I wanted to assure you that they will be,” God stands from his stool and approaches them carefully. “I understand that you have no intention of making the Silver City your home, but I wanted to verify that you’re not closing out any siblings that may wish to reconnect with you by visiting you on Earth?”</p><p>“I’ll not turn away anyone that comes to visit in peace,” Lucifer confirms. “If they threaten to break the peace, though, I will act. I will not allow anyone to jeopardize my friends—my <em>family</em>— maliciously again.” God nods solemnly and Lucifer continues, “Arael has expressed interest in staying on Earth for the time being, and I would ask that he be allowed to stay as long as he wishes.”</p><p>“Arael has always been more independent than many of his siblings,” God smiles fondly. “He is, of course, free to make his own decisions, including his choice of residence. Was there anything else you wanted to be sure of?”</p><p>“Are we expected to speak at the announcement?” Chloe asks bluntly, and God chuckles.</p><p>“It is not required, though if you’d like to speak of course you can,” he allows, “I know you’ve had plenty of thoughts you’d like for Me and My children to hear.”</p><p>“And I know You’ve already heard them, so I won’t waste my breath,” Chloe scoffs, and Lucifer tugs her closer to him. “You already know my low opinion on Your ‘parenting’ methods.”</p><p>“I do,” God bows his head briefly, “My son Amenadiel was correct, when he told Michael that Celestials could learn many things about emotions from humanity—Myself included. I am pleased that Lucifer and Amenadiel have had such excellent instruction from their friends.”</p><p>“Easy, Detective,” Lucifer murmurs in her ear as he feels her indignance rising, “I’m free now, remember? The past is done, and we can move forward now. I neither need nor expect anything from Him.”</p><p>“You may not need it, or expect it Lucifer,” Chloe hisses, still glaring daggers at an unperturbed God, “but you deserve an apology at the very least.”</p><p>“Yes, well,” he purposely brushes off the idea airily, placing a hand on her shoulder, gently turning her back toward the workshop door, “We’ve had the discussion about apologies in my family, have we not? Shall we go, then?”</p><p>“Lucifer,” God calls from behind them and he turns to face his Creator squarely, eyebrows lifted in polite disinterest. “She is right.”</p><p>“I find that she often is,” Lucifer comments, glancing at Chloe fondly, “but would you care to elaborate?”</p><p>“I… have been less than a loving parent to you,” God begins, and Lucifer is unwillingly intrigued by the uncharacteristic hesitation in his demeanor. “And Chloe is correct, you are deserving of far more love and support than you have been shown. I regret that this visit was necessary.”</p><p>“You knew,” Lucifer lifts his chin, mahogany eyes boring into his Creator’s chocolate ones. “You <em>knew</em> I didn’t want to come back here. What I thought would happen if I did.”</p><p>“And I also knew it was something that needed to happen, for you to thrive,” God bows his head for a moment, and Lucifer feels Chloe start to vibrate with rage beside him. He rests his hand on her elbow, turning them both back toward the door dismissively.</p><p>“It’s not worth it, Detective. He’s not wrong, I did need to confront the past in order to let it go,” he murmurs into her ear. “And now I don’t have to look back anymore. I’m free of Him, of all of them.”</p><p>“Lucifer,” God’s voice is soft, not his usual commanding tone, and Lucifer pauses briefly but does not turn again. “For what it’s worth, I <em>do</em> apologize for what you’ve been put through… for what I have put you through. I’d like the chance to make amends.”</p><p>Chloe feels a slight tremor course through Lucifer’s body close beside her at the words he’d never thought to hear, but it lasts only a heartbeat and he still doesn’t turn back.</p><p>“I don’t know that You can, but I think Dr. Linda would say an apology is a start,” Lucifer acknowledges mildly. “Perhaps You should consider how You would like to move forward.”</p><p>The door opens for them, and closes gently behind them as they see their way out.</p><p>****************</p><p>Gabriel doesn’t appear to guide them, but Lucifer knows the way and they stroll through the silver-limned streets in companionable silence, arm in arm. Chloe can just make out the buzz of a large gathering growing closer when a familiar voice echoes down the empty street.</p><p>“Lucifer? Is that you?” Hurried footsteps ring out from behind them and Lucifer turns, his eyes lighting up with his wide smile.</p><p>“Charlotte!” he intones joyously, “I was hoping to—oof!” Chloe grins as Charlotte hits him with the velocity of a cannonball, wrapping him in a tight embrace, her blue eyes shining with tears.</p><p>“I knew it was you!” she’s laughing, “I’d recognize those suits anywhere, no one dresses like that up here. I was wondering if I’d get to see you before the Big Announcement.”</p><p>“How are you settling in, darling?” he asks, patting her shoulders awkwardly until she releases him. “I’m so very proud of you, you know—you did a marvelous job getting yourself turned around.”</p><p>“I owe that mostly to you and Amenadiel… and Ella,” Charlotte chuckles, wiping her eyes and smoothing the lapels of her deep blue jacket. “Without you… I never would have made it here.”</p><p>“And you’re happy?” Chloe asks curiously as Charlotte descends on her for a hug as well. Charlotte wasn’t one to sit idly around and fish, and Chloe finds herself wondering what she does to fill her endless amounts of time.</p><p>“Happiness is easy here,” Charlotte confirms, pulling away from Chloe and joining them as they start to move toward the Audience Chamber again. “if I get bored in my quarters, I can venture out into the city and find something to occupy me without even needing to look too hard. Compared to the other option, this place wins no contest.”</p><p>Lucifer snorts softly, but his eyes are full of affection for the indomitable woman before him. “You more than earned your happiness, my dear.”</p><p>“How are you?” She inspects him closely, shooting Chloe a slightly suspicious glance. “Amenadiel’s been giving me updates on what’s been going on when he visits, and you’ve been having a rough time of it. I’ve been worried.”</p><p>“Worrying for the Devil, Charlotte?” he teases lightly, “Surely anyone up here could tell you that’s a waste of time.”</p><p>“Oh, I’ve had a few choice words for the angels that have crossed my path and had the gall to look sideways at me for being your friend—”</p><p>“Charlotte!” Lucifer rests a hand on his chest in an over-the-top pantomime of shock. "Have you been defending the Devil in Heaven?" She snorts, and he can't keep himself from laughing with her. "That wasn't necessary, darling, but I do wish I could have seen their faces. Hopefully you won't have to deal with that anymore once the announcement is made."</p><p>"Oh, it's been different for quite a while already," she informs him smugly. "I've had a few of them approach me wanting to talk about you, and they've been nearly friendly."</p><p>Lucifer hums quietly, "I suppose that means Phanuel has been making progress."</p><p>They're approaching the square now, and the drone of conversation from the gathered crowd is loud enough that they can't really converse anymore. Gabriel materializes beside them suddenly, but Chloe is the only one that jumps in startlement.</p><p>"This way, Lucifer," the Messenger's voice carries effortlessly over the buzz of the gathered masses as he gestures toward the entrance of the tower.</p><p>It starts slowly, the nearest angels hearing his name and turning eagerly to look for him. As those turn, the next wave does as well, and silence falls in a rippling wave as the entire gathered host turns to acknowledge the guests of honor. Lucifer's face locks into his supercilious mask that Chloe used to loathe before she had discovered it was a thin veneer for the tumultuous emotions he tried not to show at times.</p><p>"Go on," Charlotte murmurs encouragingly, "we'll catch up later."</p><p>The crowd before them parts, silent but for the faint rustle of footsteps and fabric as they move aside to let them pass. Lucifer pulls Chloe close against him protectively, but she doesn't feel any malice from the gathering—only the faint hum of restrained excitement. Gabriel leads them through the throng toward the entrance, and Lucifer tries not to twitch nervously. His newfound peace still rests lightly on his heart, but the last time he was surrounded by this many of his siblings was not pleasant to say the least. He sets his expression into one of mild disinterest and debates unfurling his wings… just in case he needs to grab Chloe and run…</p><p><em>Don’t overreact, He won’t let anything happen here today, you’re both perfectly safe.</em> He manages to keep his wings contained, and his eyes forward, steadfastly ignoring the gathered Host. Their Link flares under his ribs, and he glances at Chloe as a glimmer catches in the corner of his eye. An awed murmur washes through the bodies surrounding them and he casts a glance over his shoulder, finding her lucent wings on display, reflecting the argent starlight brightly so they appear nearly opalescent. She looks up at him and shrugs in response to his lifted eyebrow.</p><p>“Just in case?”</p><p>“Darling, you read my mind,” he shrugs to loosely unfurls his own wings and another susurration rolls through the amassed crowd. “You look stunning, by the way.”</p><p>“I hope it doesn’t freak Dad out too much,” she smiles up at him shyly, tucking her crystalline appendages close to her back.</p><p>“He’s your father, I’m sure he’s made of tough enough stuff to handle a couple of paltry wings,” he chuckles, and some of his anxiety falls away as he focuses on <em>her</em>. They reach the door and pull in a deep breath in tandem. “All right, Detective, here we go.”</p><p>Chloe blinks as they enter the chamber, her eyes widening in shock. What had been a large room before is now larger than the biggest stadium she’s ever set foot in, and her footsteps falter a bit as they make their way toward the center stage. Lucifer steadies her automatically, adjusting his gait so she doesn’t fall behind.</p><p>“It’s God’s tower, my love, the size always reflects the audience contained,” he murmurs to her. “I’ve mentioned how very many useless siblings I have, yes?”</p><p>“Once or twice,” she acknowledges weakly. “How many of these do you think are going to be visiting regularly?”</p><p>“None, until they need my services,” He snorts derisively. “I highly doubt we’ll see more than the ones we’ve already encountered with any sort of regularity. Except Michael, of course.”</p><p>“Of course,” she agrees faintly, squeezing his waist supportively. They reach center stage after what feels like days of walking through the congregation of angels filing into their seats and glance around. Chloe nudges him with a gentle elbow and nods to their right, where her father is beaming up at her. She waves at him shyly, and Lucifer notices little waves of muted rainbows rippling across the surface of her feathers. Lucifer’s appreciative smile turns into a <em>real </em>grin when he notices the humble man sitting next to John, though.</p><p>“Padre!” he crows delightedly, bounding across the stage, hand extended in greeting. “I wasn’t sure you’d come!”</p><p>“Lucifer,” Frank greets him with a warm handclasp and a friendly smile. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world! What do you think of your Father’s plan for you now?”</p><p>“Still not a fan, I’m afraid,” Lucifer replies with a grin, “and I’ve let him know that I don’t consider Him my father anymore, so I’m prepared to enjoy my <em>freedom</em>.”</p><p>Frank’s eyes widen in surprise. “You may find Him harder to leave behind than you think, my friend.”</p><p>Charlotte arrives then followed closely by Delilah, who is greeted warmly by Lucifer. A middle-aged man that Lucifer introduces as ‘Will’ looks vaguely familiar to Chloe, but she can’t figure out why. Another gentleman appears, smiling shyly and embracing Lucifer before sitting next to Will and striking up a lively conversation as Lucifer watches them fondly.</p><p>“Who’s that?” Chloe asks curiously.</p><p>“Oscar,” Lucifer replies absently. “If he and Will haven’t met before, I’ve no doubt they’ll be fast friends after this. They have a lot in common—”</p><p>The audience chamber had filled while Lucifer was greeting his arriving friends, and a profound silence sweeps the room as God abruptly appears on the stage beside Lucifer and Chloe.</p><p>“Show off,” Lucifer mumbles, and Chloe stifles a giggle. God casts an amused glance over His shoulder at her partner, then turns back to the Host.</p><p>“My children,” He begins, lifting his arms as though to embrace them all, and Chloe strangely <em>does</em> feel as though she’s being enfolded in the loving arms of her father again. “I have gathered you all here to acknowledge, and hopefully begin to repair, an injustice that I have allowed to perpetuate for <em>far too long</em>. But before I can address <em>that</em>, I must share a truth that has been withheld from the majority of you.” Lucifer’s face pales subtly, and Chloe moves closer—ready to support him if he needs it. “I know you have all now heard the truth behind the supposed ‘Fall’ of our Lightbringer, formerly Samael but now far more fittingly named Lucifer.” God spares a glance at the pair on the stage with him, and his eyes are dark with love and sorrow. “I have maintained My silence on this matter since that event, but I can do so no more.”</p><p>“The story you created amongst yourselves was that our Lightbringer was cast from Heaven because he dared to question Me, to demand that Free Will be gifted to <em>all</em> My children, not only humanity. My Sword took that fairy tale further and managed to spin a myth that persisted not only among My children for eons, but among humanity for thousands of years on Earth. Of the Beast, the Serpent, the Prince of Lies, the <em>Adversary</em>, the Fallen One. The Devil.” God’s voice has gotten progressively colder as He has spoken, until He is nearly hissing with anger when He reaches the litany of titles that have been flung at His erstwhile son. His children fidget uncomfortably in their seats before Him.</p><p>“He forgot ‘Old Scratch’,” Lucifer grumbles in Chloe’s ear, and she elbows him lightly, trying not to laugh as he whines, “But Detective, I actually <em>like</em> that one!”</p><p>“I tell you now what I <em>should</em> have told you then, rather than hold My silence. Lucifer has <em>never</em> fallen from My grace.” God continues, and Lucifer falls silent again to listen, “He had vital duties to perform in Hell that could no longer be postponed. The Free Will that he had dared to ask for—for <em>all of you—</em>I could not grant, because it is already a <em>part</em> of you, merely waiting to be activated by <em>your</em> choices. Very few of my children have chosen to use this gift thus far. I sincerely hope more of you do.”</p><p>A stunned whisper rolls through the gathered crowd, but settles again as God continues to speak. “I realize now that by maintaining My distance, by withdrawing Myself from you all, that I have allowed this deliberate misinformation to persist. I allowed the grief of sending My Lightbringer away—however temporarily—to affect my judgment, and you are all now well aware that he has paid a very steep price for My negligence.”</p><p>Chloe feels Lucifer sway against her, and carefully braces him, trying not to make it obvious to the watching crowd. She remembers what he’d told her— <em>“Heaven answers to whims and wishes.”</em>—and she desperately wishes for a comfortable piece of furniture for them to sit on. She’s surprised when the blue squashy loveseat that had been present during their first visit to this tower appears behind them, and she casually seats herself on it as though merely making herself comfortable, tugging him down beside her to listen to the remainder of God’s speech as though they’re relaxing and watching TV at home. He doesn’t resist, allowing himself to settle on the couch against her.</p><p>“As a result of that price, however, your brother the Lightbringer has <em>fully</em> embraced his own free will, and he has used it well—not only to improve himself—but to enhance and defend the lives of those he cares about as best he could, and in making his chosen home on Earth a better place.” A louder rustle passes through the gathering of angels, and this time it doesn’t quiet immediately. “Yes, you’ve understood Me correctly. Lucifer will not be returning to the Silver City to live permanently—he has chosen to make his home on Earth, but he will have free reign to visit any plane he chooses for any length of time. There are a few other angels who have made similar choices as well, and they will have the same visitation rights.” God flickers an amused glance to his left, where Chloe spies a solemn Amenadiel, a cheerfully grinning Arael, and an unfamiliar, uncomfortable looking angel. He’s a little chubby, with short, curly, white-blonde hair, a pink complexion, and light-colored eyes, and Chloe has never seen an angel that looks so… <em>soft</em>. He shifts in his seat under God’s regard, and Chloe sends him a reassuring smile that he returns shyly as he straightens his tartan bowtie.</p><p>“While Lucifer is choosing not to dwell among us here in the Silver City, he has asked that it be made known that he will not turn away any of you who wish to make amends or renew friendly ties with him. He has also requested that it be made known that if any of you choose to use your free will to threaten harm to him—or to his friends and family that have loved and supported him so well during his time on Earth—he will not be tolerant.” God levels a piercing glare at His attentive children. “Nor will I. Let me be clear—if you abuse your gift of free will to offer harm to others, or with malicious intent, I <em>will not save you from the consequences</em>. And those are never pleasant—you need only look to the fates of Uriel and Michael for proof, should you so choose.” The silence in the chamber rings in Chloe’s ears, and she feels Lucifer tense beside her again, gripping her hand. God bows his head, his posture sorrowful. “They chose their own dark paths. If you choose Light, you won’t be led astray. If you have doubts, turn to your siblings or Myself for guidance. I cannot interfere with free will, but I promise that I will always listen.”</p><p>God lets the thoughtful silence around him marinate for a long moment before turning to acknowledge his Lightbringer and his Miracle.</p><p>“My children, I also have an introduction to make to you. This human woman you see before you is Detective Chloe Decker of Los Angeles. Through her relationship with and support of your brother the Lightbringer, she has come into possession of divinity in her own right, as you can witness by these breathtaking wings upon her back. In light of this, she also is granted the right of visitation to the Silver City and any of its provinces—for as often and as long as she wishes. I trust you will make her feel welcome when she does.” He turns to Lucifer now and his voice, while carrying, is gentle and full of affection, “Lucifer, I regret that I could not smooth the path to bring you back to us for you. I am truly sorry for the anguish, solitude, and mental <em>and </em>physical tortures you have undergone. I <em>am</em> proud of the strength you have developed along your journey, and even more so of the being you have become—though I readily acknowledge that I played no part in that growth.”</p><p>Lucifer had drawn himself up when God had turned to them, his face a study of masked puzzlement. He nods, acknowledging God’s words, but doesn’t respond further.</p><p>“I will take your words to heart, and consider how I might go about making my amends to you,” he continues, and Lucifer’s mask crumbles a bit, his jaw dropping open in surprise. Fortunately, God chooses that moment to transfer his attention back to the Host at large, allowing Lucifer some time to scrape his scattered thoughts back together.</p><p>“Now! Do any of you have any questions or objections to welcoming your brother back among you?”</p><p>“What of the new Celestial presence on Earth?” comes a voice near the middle. Chloe squints, and can just make out a leather-clad shape with long black hair and dark eyes.</p><p>“I am aware of the development, Remiel,” Chloe catches a sparkle in God’s eyes as he replies. “I’m sure your brother Amenadiel can manage to raise his family without further interference. Though you may need to ask <em>him</em> about his willingness to receive future visitations.”</p><p>“Will there be <em>more?”</em> Remiel presses bluntly, “If Lucifer is truly living with humans now, and Arael and Aziraphale are electing to stay on Earth as well—will we need to prepare for an army of Nephilim?”</p><p>“As you well know, Remiel,” and God’s voice takes on a stern edge, “The myths of the Nephilim have <em>no</em> basis in fact. There is no precedent for what is occurring on Earth at this moment, and I highly doubt any of your siblings has an interest in raising an army—especially not made up of <em>their precious children</em>.”</p><p>“So there <em>will</em> be more?”</p><p>“There are many paths moving forward from here, including the possibility of more. Where there is a Will, there is a Way, so the humans say,” God smirks, eyeing the pair on the stage with him, much to their consternation. Chloe makes an immediate mental note to corner God later and ask him about that little comment. “But that is neither here nor there, nor is it really any of our business, Remiel. I’m sure your brothers will thank you to stay out of their private lives.” Lucifer snorts beside her, finally coming back to life a little after his Creator’s unexpected revelations… and <em>apology.</em> “Now… anyone else?”</p><p>No one else speaks, and God grins benevolently at them all as he turns to Lucifer and Chloe, holding out his hands and inviting them to stand. They do, and he ushers them to center stage.</p><p>“Then, by My decree, we cordially welcome Detective Chloe Decker and Lucifer the Morning Star to the Silver City!”</p><p>Chloe is watching Lucifer’s face as the Host explodes around them in a resounding cheer of acceptance. It echoes and crests around them, ringing in their ears. Slowly he turns to face her and a light kindles in the depths of his deep brown eyes. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him into an enthusiastic embrace.</p><p>“The path was long and winding, Detective,” he speaks loudly enough so she can hear over the roar of the celebrating angels, “but it led me to you, and now I can follow you no matter <em>where</em> you may go. It’s all been worth it for that, Chloe.”</p><p>She shivers as he murmurs her name in her ear and pulls him closer. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”</p><p>She wraps her crystalline wings around him as he laughs joyously into her hair, and the applause of their audience fades into the background of their blissful exchange.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Here we are, my friends, the very end!  I've left it a bit open because something further has been sniffing around, but I've no idea if it will ever actually approach to be written.<br/>I can't begin to articulate how astonished I have been at the amazing comments and kind feedback you all have left-- Every single one has just blown me away with the sheer time and emotion you've all invested in reading this monstrosity. Thank you for sticking with it, and I hope you'll let me know if you decide to read in future, I'd love to hear opinions on a second intake!<br/>I don't know if I'll be possessed by another story now that this one is cleared out or not, but if I do, I'm sure I'll be forced to write it down as well, and I hope it's received half as well as this series has been.<br/>Feel free to come connect on Tumblr, I'm DoctorCastielScamander over there! I've also dipped my toes into the turbulent waters of Twitter, @MightBeAWriter. (Be warned, I have no idea what I'm doing there either, it appears to be a theme for me.)</p>
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